A Time of Peace
by TeenMuggle
Summary: Sequel to Ancient Relics. Voldemort and Morgana are dead and Merlin is ready to enjoy his new mortality. But a shadowy group calling themselves the 'Liberators' are causing trouble and campaigning for an end to the International Statute of Secrecy. Merlin is faced with some difficult choices and must rely on his friends to help him on a journey through time to fix past mistakes.
1. The Liberators

**A/N: Yes, I'm back! And guess what, I'm now no longer 'TeenMuggle' technically since I'm now twenty years old. Should I change it to 'TweenMuggle' in Hobbit style, leave it as it is, or get a whole new name? It's bugging me a lot! Just a small update on my life if anyone cares. I also got a Harry Potter tattoo; Deathly Hallows symbol on the back of my neck. Labelled as a Potterhead for life! :)**

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**Anyways, here is the long-awaited sequel to Ancient Relics. Thanks to everybody who left reviews or PMd me with ideas; I've used several, discarded several and tweaked others, so thank you all for your input, but it will still be _my_ story, so don't feel put out if it isn't exactly what you all wanted.**

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**In case any of you missed it, I posted a prequel story to Ancient Relics sometime last year, and I WILL be using parts of that story in this one and referencing it occasionally (I also edited Ancient Relics as well to fit in better with that story and iron out any inconsistencies). If you haven't read it, or don't want to (I'll try not to cry here) don't worry, it isn't necessary, but might enhance your enjoyment of this story (that is, if you like it) and offer some links to Merlin's past. I hope you'll all check it out, but don't feel compelled to if Founder's era stories aren't your thing.**

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**After that ramble, let the story begin! Hope you enjoy :)**

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The Liberators  


Merlin stood alone in the darkened room. He cast out his magical senses in every direction, searching for other people, making sure the coast was clear. He had to be absolutely certain it was safe to emerge.

He once again berated himself for getting himself into this situation. What on earth had he been thinking?

He crept towards the door, staying as silent as possible. He sensed a great number of people in close proximity, but was unsure whether or not they were in the room beyond or further away. He had to be able to leave unseen. It was too dangerous for him to run into anybody else.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he reached out towards the door handle, ready to gently turn it and slip out unnoticed. With his other hand, he reached behind him and pulled his hood over his head. Maybe that would suffice? He doubted it. This 'disguise' had long since ceased to be effective. It was too dangerous to trust to such a flimsy concealment.

But what choice did he have?

Just as he laid his hand on the knob, he sensed a sudden presence heading straight towards him from beyond. He leapt back, desperately looking for a place to hide, but none were to be found. He wheeled around to find the door opened and two figures standing in the doorway.

"This is where you're hiding, Merlin!" grinned Fred. "We wondered where you'd got to!"

"I'd never have thought I'd have Merlin himself hiding in _my _stock cupboard," said George, sporting an identical grin. "You can come out now. The shop's closed."

Merlin scowled, annoyed at their amused expressions. "So kind of you," he said, and moved past them out of the room and into the main shop, now mercifully empty of customers. "Very considerate."

They just continued grinning. "Locking yourself in a stock cupboard? Not exactly courageous now, is it?"

"Can you blame me?" Merlin asked, exasperated, gesturing to bright orange banners all around the room that read: '_Merlin's Magical Mischief Making Kit- Buy one and meet the man himself!' "_What the _hell_ were you thinking?"

"You said you'd endorse our projects!"

"You could have warned me first," Merlin groaned. "What a nightmare!"

"Can you understand celebrities?" Fred asked his twin. "He and Harry are the most famous people in the world, but they _still_ hate giving out autographs. You'd think they'd enjoy their fame!"

"_Enjoy_ it?" Merlin said. "Would you enjoy having to sign hundreds of boxes over and over again, with journalists, photographers, admirers and plain weirdos in your face all day asking hundreds of questions and pulling at your robes? It's manic."

"It'll all calm down sooner or later," said George, still looking amused. "Hopefully not until we sell all of our stock though."

"It's been months and months," said Merlin leaning heavily against a stack of Puking Pastilles. "You'd think they'd at least be able to catch a glimpse of me without screaming their heads off."

"True," acknowledged Fred. "You're turning into quite the Gilderoy Lockhart."

Fortunately, he never got to see the glare Merlin was about to shoot in his direction. There was a sudden burst of flame and Merlin felt the now familiar weight of Fawkes settling on his shoulder. He crooned softly, and Merlin raised his hand to stroke his scarlet plumage.

"Bloody bird," gasped George, clutching at his heart. "Does he have to do that?"

Merlin ignored him. "Now, why couldn't you have come earlier and taken me away from all this?" he said to Fawkes.

Fawkes squawked in answer. Merlin nodded.

"You're right. We don't need to give them any more ammunition for gossip. I know you don't like being centre of attention."

"Why do you always talk to him like that?" Fred asked, watching Fawkes uncertainly. "I know he's smart and all, but he doesn't actually talk back to you, does he?"

Merlin just smiled in answer, leaving Fred unanswered and uncertain. Of course, Fawkes couldn't talk, but he might as well do. He was a creature of the Old Religion, Merlin's kin, and Merlin found he understood him just as well as he understood Kilgharrah or Aithusa. Better probably, knowing Kilgharrah's riddles. Some communication just didn't require words.

"I should get back," Merlin said, standing up straight again. "Before someone looks through the window and sees me."

"Come on," said George, moving over to the till. "Don't you want to see how much money your little appearance has gotten us today?"

"Not particularly," said Merlin. "I'll get you back for this. You _said_ your shop would be closed today!"

"What's a little white lie between friends?"

"Yeah, harmless!"

"For you, maybe," said Merlin. "You should think twice before doing that again if you want to continue your lessons."

Immediately, they both sobered up.

"But you promised you'd teach us Old Magic!"

"And _you_ promised the shop would be empty when I Apparated in. That's the last time I trust either of you."

"_Merlin_-"

"Bye," he smiled, and with another flash of fire, Fawkes had disappeared from the shop, carrying Merlin with him, and depositing him in the middle of the drawing room of Grimmauld Place. He soon made his way down to the kitchen, where he found Draco, Remus and Tonks sitting at the table.

Tonks winked at him as he walked in. "Nice quiet day in Diagon Alley?"

"You knew?" he groaned, sitting down opposite her and burying his head in his hands.

"Of course," she grinned. "Who do you think helped them plan it?"

He looked back up at her. "Why?"

"Because you're famous," she said. "You need to get used to it sooner or later. You're always going on about how great it is not to have to hide your identity any more, but what use it that when you don't go out in public without a disguise?"

"How can I when I get mobbed wherever I go?"

"Harry's put up with that since he was eleven," said Remus. "The more you hide away, the more curious people get about you. If you just stopped hiding, eventually they'd get used to you."

"Yeah, in about fifty years," scoffed Draco. "Round about the same time I can go out in public without getting spat at."

Merlin shot him a glance here. "Are people still doing that?"

Draco shrugged. "Not as much as they used to. Most people just ignore me, or tell me that I have no right to the Order of Merlin you gave me."

He looked down at the table here, probably agreeing with them. For the millioneth time since the ceremony, Merlin shook his head.

"You deserve it, Draco," he said. "I say you do, and since I'm the one who started the whole thing, mine is the only opinion that counts."

He'd repeated this same statement to Draco dozens of times, and he would continue to repeat it until he believed it. Until he believed in himself.

Draco made no answer, and Merlin just sighed again. He looked towards Tonks.

"I wish I was a Metamorphagus," he said, looking at her bubblegum-pink hair. "I hate having to disguise myself."

"Sorry, it's a privilege granted to only a worthy few," she winked. She looked down at the Muggle-style watch on her wrist. "Speaking of which, I'd best go and pick Teddy up from my mother's."

"What colour is his hair today?" Merlin asked.

"Green," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Mum's delighted; she thinks he'll be a Slytherin one day. You know, one of the few Slytherins in my family that isn't psychotic. Which, come to think of it, is only herself and Draco. And I'm still not sure about the latter."

She winked at Draco as she said this, but he didn't smile, probably wondering whether she was being serious or not. This had been the case for the last several months. Although now welcomed by the entirety of the Order (even Ron, though somewhat reluctantly at first), he still was not comfortable around them, and jokes at his expense were often taken with cautious confusion. He was incredibly quiet around everybody; the only ones he seemed to be at ease around were Merlin, and, surprisingly, Fred and George. It was an odd sort of friendship, especially as such hatred had existed between them for so long, but the weeks when Merlin, Fred, George and Draco had lived together in Grimmauld Place after Merlin's reveal at the Ministry had created an odd sort of bond between them. Sometimes, the twins even managed to get Draco to smile.

The four of them still lived here, more out of habit than anything. Fred and George kept making excuses about the flat above their shop being infested with Doxies, but Merlin thought they just wanted to keep the two of them company, as well as discussing potential endorsements with Merlin. The rest of the Order stayed occasionally; though no longer doing patrols or Order missions, everyone seemed to congregate here anyway. It had almost become a sort of common room, with people gathering in the evenings for discussions or for meals, before heading to their own homes. Remus and Tonks, though now having their own home after the repeal of the Ministry's Anti-Werewolf Laws, spent a great deal of time here; Remus had spent the better part of the last few years in the house, after all.

Merlin, for his part, was in no hurry to move. Though quite rich after thirteen centuries of saving and able to afford an entire castle of his own if he so wanted, he found himself quite settled in Grimmauld Place, a place he had come to think of almost as a home after the last year or so of living here, despite the dodgy décor. Still, the house _was_ rather dark and dingy. If it wasn't for the fact that trying to acquire a new property without the _Daily Prophet _and the rest of the Wizarding community finding out was so unlikely, he'd be seriously considering moving. But, Harry was happy to let him stay.

After the battle that had taken place in the square in front of the house, the street had been severely damaged, and the memories of more than one hundred Muggles modified, with magical repair teams working around the clock for days to undo the damage the Death Eaters had done, and the destruction he and Morgana had wrought with their duel. As a result, the neighbours were often to be seen gazing into space and occasionally walking into lampposts. It made Merlin uncomfortable every time he witnessed this, though some of the others chuckled affectionately. Memory-Modification had always seemed like such a violation to him.

"I'd best be going as well," said Remus, grimacing. "I've got those meetings with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Beasts."

"Are they going well?" Merlin asked. "Are they seeing sense?"

"Beginning to," he answered, running a hand over his lined face. "Though I think that's Kingsley's influence more than anything. Unbelievable how deeply rooted the prejudice about werewolves is. Thank Me- well, thank _you,_ for the potion you created. It's ten times better than Wolfsbane. If we can get that supplied free of charge to every werewolf in Britain …"

He smiled. "Well, I'd better stop before I bore you all. Molly was in earlier, she's left some of that famous steak pie of hers for you all tonight. It's in the pantry." He grinned at Merlin. "Thirteen hundred years old, and you still have someone cooking your meals for you. Retirement must be bliss."

Merlin grinned back. "Don't I deserve it? After all, it makes a change from the days when I actually had to _kill_ my own dinner."

"Urgh," said Tonks, looking disgusted. "I'm off before you give away any of the gruesome details."

She turned and left, and after a moment, Remus followed her, leaving Merlin and Draco alone in the kitchen. Immediately, the tension seemed to leave Draco's shoulders.

"Why don't you get the dinner?" said Merlin. Draco nodded, and made to stand up, but Merlin stopped him.

"Not like that," he said. "Stay where you are. Bring it to the table."

Draco's eyes widened when he realised what he was asking. "My wand's in-"

"You don't need one," Merlin said, not to be beaten. "Bring it to the table. You remember the incantation?"

Draco nodded. "_Fleogan."_

"Well?"

Draco sighed, and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, and screwed up his face in fierce concentration. Several minutes passed in silence, as Draco sought the magic deep within. Steadily, his erratic breathing slowed, and became steady. He opened his eyes, and held out his palm in the direction of the pantry.

"_Fleogan,_" he said, and his eyes burned golden.

The pantry door swung open, and from within, the pie raised several inches into the air, and slowly, ever so slowly drifted towards the two of them. It was shaky in the air, it wobbled, but successfully was landed on the table without issue. Draco sighed with relief.

"Good," said Merlin, not betraying his delight. "But it's cold. Heat it up."

Draco looked wary, but, after bracing himself, held out his hand over the pie. "_Byrne,_" he said.

Immediately, the pie began to emanate warmth, and began to sizzle satisfyingly, filling the room with pleasant aromas.

"Good," Merlin said again. "But don't release it all too quickly or else it'll-"

A flash filled the room, and a couple of flames sprouted out of the pie, making them both jump back. Fortunately however, the flames were soon quenched.

"I'm sorry!" said Draco. "I didn't mean-"

"It's alright," said Merlin, examining the pie carefully. "It's just a little bit burnt. It'll still taste as good-"

"That's not what I meant," Draco said, sighing. "I can't control this magic. Not like Potter can."

"Harry's been learning for months," said Merlin. "Of course he'll be better than you. It takes time and practice."

"Potter didn't take this long to master fire spells-"

"Harry _had_ to learn quickly," said Merlin, patiently. "He had no choice. The Old Religion needed him to learn."

"Yeah, and what about the Founders?" he asked. "I've read the books they wrote. They all learned quickly too."

"You need to stop comparing yourself to everyone else," Merlin said. "The four of them, and Harry, they were exceptions to the rule. Most of the people I taught in Camelot didn't learn half so quickly as any of them. You're at the same level as most of them were, perhaps even further. The Old Religion is unique to every single person, Draco. Everyone is different. Ravenclaw picked up Old Magic without a second thought, Hufflepuff took a little longer to do so; it didn't make Rowena a greater witch just because she learned more quickly. And besides, the magic they were all learning was just a fusion of Old and New, not the Old Magic proper, like what you're doing. Harry's progress has become a lot slower since he started using spells without a wand, about the same speed an average sorcerer would have learned back in the day."

Draco avoided looking at him, and instead looked at the slightly blackened pastry of the pie. "My ancestors were Druids," he said. "I should be better at this."

"Believe you me, Draco, there were many Druids whose magic was even weaker than yours," Merlin said dismissively. "Focus on learning, not comparisons."

Draco still avoided looking at him. He rubbed his left arm unconsciously.

"What is this really about, Draco?" Merlin asked. "Is it about your father?"

Draco stiffened, and looked down at his hands. "No."

"You're a terrible liar."

"There's nothing to say," Draco burst out. "Why does everyone keep asking me that lately?"

"He's asked to see you, Draco," Merlin said.

"I don't care."

"He's your father."

"He's a weak fool that couldn't look past his own stupid ideals," Draco said, glaring down at the table before him. He twisted his hands in his lap. "He's the reason I- why I- why I even got on the wrong side in the first place."

"No one would judge you for going to see him," said Merlin. "You don't have to ignore him for our sakes. We wouldn't think any less of you. You don't have to prove yourself to us anymore, and you don't need to prove yourself to him either."

"I spent so long trying to uphold the Malfoy honour," said Draco, mumbling. "I gave all that up, everything he taught me, everything that we had, to help you. I don't regret that. But I'm- I'm afraid he'll hate me for it."

"Why would he ask for you if he did?"

Draco just shook his head. "None of this matters anyway," he said. "He'll be in Azkaban for years yet. Even Kingsley couldn't get him pardoned for _all _the crap he did."

"Your mother isn't in prison. Are you telling me you don't want to see her either?"

At this, he flinched. "I don't want any ties to that old life anymore," he said quietly. "I've spent the last year trying to get away from it."

"What about that speech you gave before we went to get Harry from the Dark Tower?" Merlin asked gently. "About how you were sick of atoning for your family, how you weren't ashamed?"

"Yeah, well, that was before the trial, wasn't it?" Draco said. "Before I found out just how much he really did. I'm done with him. The Malfoys were Druids once, a long time ago. I can learn that Old Magic. I'll make people realise the Malfoys don't have to be like this anymore."

"You can't learn Old Magic just because you want to prove yourself," Merlin said. "You'll never succeed. The Old Religion isn't something you turn to for a means to an end. You have to truly accept the magic that is within you. And the greatest magic in this world is love, Draco, it's at the very heart of the Old Religion. And no matter how much you may deny it, I know you still love your parents. Don't be ashamed of that."

But Draco still refused to look at him. Merlin tried to think of something else to say, but was interrupted by the arrival of Fred and George, who stormed into the kitchen triumphantly carrying bags of gold.

"You'll never guess how much we made! I've never- is that mum's steak pie? Wait, a moment- _who burnt it_?"

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"I can't do this," said Ron, throwing down a book on the table in front of him. He folded his arms across the chest. "These spells are ridiculous. Who on earth knows how to pronounce … wrassny … wraysnan-"

"_Wrǣsnan,"_said Hermione, not even looking up from her own book. "It's a transmutation spell."

Ron stared. "Of course, _you'd_ know."

"You're still supposed to be on fire spells," said Harry, laying aside his own book. "Merlin won't like it if you get ahead of yourself.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I've been lighting candles and fires for weeks!"

"Yeah, but not without blowing up the fireplace," said Harry, nodding to the still slightly blackened bricks around the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Okay, I get your point," sighed Ron. "I'm just not as good at it as you are, Harry."

Harry made no answer. True, Ron was still only learning the elementals of Old Magic, and it was taking a lot longer than it had for Harry, but Harry didn't believe this was for lack of power. Everyone was learning at a much slower pace than before, including himself. Whereas a new spell might have taken him a few days to learn, it now took him several weeks, and with a lot more effort, especially as he now had to do it without a wand. Merlin said this was down to the fact that after Voldemort and Morgana's deaths, the Old Religion had had no need to help Harry learn so fast, so now he was going at an average pace. Though frustrating at first, Harry found he didn't mind. There was no pressure on him to learn quickly anymore, so he found he now had time to actually _enjoy_ the magic, something he'd been unable to do before due to the burden of having to become proficient in a short space of time.

It was hard to believe it was now almost one year since he had first heard of Old Magic, the night of the Battle of Hogwarts when Merlin had first revealed himself to them. Since then it had become such a huge presence in his life he wondered how he had never noticed it before. He felt it at all times, rich power in his veins giving him strength, giving him guidance.

Now that the Old Religion had fully returned, more and more people were discovering it within themselves. Several members of the DA and the Order had passed Merlin's 'Entrance Exam', meaning the Old Religion was strong enough within them to be able to learn Old Magic. It was a point of great confusion amongst many people as to why everyone couldn't learn it, but Merlin was firm. Although every living creature in the world possessed the magic of the Old Religion, with magical people possessing more of it than Muggles, only a certain amount of witches and wizards were actually able to use it. It had caused its fair share of resentment.

Ron, to his own great surprise, had discovered he was one of those few. Merlin's test had consisted of the simple task of lighting a candle using nothing more than Old Magic, and Ron had been so surprised to find he could do it he'd exploded the candle and set fire to the table at Grimmauld Place. He'd had a habit of exploding things ever since then. Despite Merlin's efforts, Ron was still not very good at reining back his emotions.

However, to much shock and bewilderment, Hermione seemed unable to use the magic. The thought of Hermione, Head Girl, bookworm and intellectual having a type of magic that eluded her was something that still completely stumped Harry, and everyone else that knew her.

Hermione, however, did not seem disappointed, at least, not on the surface. She still sat in on all of Ron and Harry's lessons, eager to learn more, and had read all the Founders books, plus a translated version of Merlin's spell book more times than even she could remember. She sat by Merlin for hours on end, asking questions about Camelot and the Old Religion, the true stories of the Knights, about the Founders and the magic he had taught them, plus dozens of others about the various historical events he had witnessed throughout the years, being particularly interested in his memories of the Goblin Rebellions, and the history of house-elves and werewolves, now more determined than ever to end the persecution of these creatures by wizards. Apparently, she seemed to be angling for a position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and was determined to impress. She needn't worry about it; from what Kingsley had told Harry, he could personally appoint her as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister without anyone batting an eyelid, if he wanted to. The Ministry were desperate to have her join their ranks.

Ron had, as a result, tried not to use Old Magic around Hermione, fearing it might upset her, but Hermione had shrugged this off. She insisted she was happy not being able to use the magic, but Harry and Ron were still a little wary. She had had Merlin teach her the meditation techniques he had taught Harry, so that she would be able to greater sense the Old Religion within her, which she said helped improve her Wand-Magic, and gave her greater awareness and reflexes, though Ron had wondered whether or not she was just saying this to not lose face.

Of the DA, about one third had proved to be able to use it, including to no one's surprise, Luna, who took to it like a fish to water, as well as Seamus, Hannah, Michael Corner, and, coincidentally, the entirety of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Other teams claimed this was an unfair advantage, including Ron, who assigned their narrow defeat of Gryffindor a couple of months ago to this fact, but all objections had been quashed when Ravenclaw had been promptly crushed by the Slytherin team, none of which had Old Magic. The final match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was due to take place in just over a month, deciding the fate of the Quidditch Cup.

NEWTS, too, were also looming closer, but Harry was scarcely concerned with these. He hadn't come back to Hogwarts for exam results. He'd only come to learn how to defeat Voldemort, and, when that had been done, he'd only stuck around for Hermione's sake, as well as the Quidditch Cup. Despite Gryffindor having won the Cup three times during his tenure at Hogwarts, he'd only been on the winning team once, and wanted to lift that great silver Cup one last time, as Captain. Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known; he was in no rush to leave it. And besides, he still had to figure out where to go after school.

Now that Voldemort was dead, becoming an Auror didn't seem to be as much of a priority any more, especially as most of his Death Eaters had either died along with him, or had been rounded up pretty soon after the battle at Slytherin's castle. True, there were still some Voldemort supporters out there, but none that seemed to be causing much trouble. At least, for the present.

Merlin had suggested that Harry help him teach Old Magic to others, but Harry was hesitant. Old Magic was still something new to him, and although he now felt entirely comfortable using it, he was wary of teaching others such a potentially dangerous magic. Teaching Old Magic was entirely different to teaching Patronuses to the DA.

The DA and the Order were both still in operation, though most of the danger had passed. DA was now just a Defence Against the Dark Arts practical study group, in the same league as the Potions Club, or Charms Club, though by far the most popular. Professor McGonagall was happy to continue letting him teach. The Order met every month to assess the ongoing clean-up effort after years of war and slaughter, but it was more or less just a reserve operation now. More a sort of club than anything else. It remained in readiness however.

As well as teaching Harry, Ron and the others at Hogwarts and the Order Old Magic, in individual and group sessions, he'd also been running classes at the Ministry for the Aurors who had the ability, and planned to teach Old Magic full time at Hogwarts, beginning in September, as well as continuing to run evening classes for adults. He wasn't too pleased with this idea; he'd never taught so many people at once before, and he was always wary about who he taught. Old Magic is dangerous in the wrong hands, he'd always say, and refused to teach anyone who he could not be certain would not use it for the wrong reasons. As a result, he was making many enemies.

"Where is he?" Ron asked, impatiently. "He said be in the Common Room at half eleven. Why's he not here?"

"He's probably been mobbed by fans again," said Harry, wincing in sympathy. In the weeks after Voldemort's death, walking down the corridors at Hogwarts had proved so impossible he'd resorted to near permanent Invisibility spells.

"Yeah, poor him," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "Bill was staying at Grimmauld Place last week. He told me Merlin's been mobbed by girls wherever he goes. He's had about a dozen proposals as well. Bet he's tied up with one of those girls-"

"Nope, just those charming twin brothers of yours," a voice suddenly sounded from behind them. Harry turned to see Merlin standing there, grinning. He moved towards them and flopped down on a seat before the fire. "Though they haven't been quite so charming recently. You'll never guess what they did today-"

"Oh, yeah, that whole promotion thing," said Ron. "Let me guess, they didn't tell you before you turned up?"

"How did _you_ know about it?" Merlin asked indignantly.

Ron threw him the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that was lying on the table. "It's been advertised all week. Don't you read the papers?"

"Not anymore no," said Merlin, reading it through quickly. "Not since they did that piece entitled 'How to win the heart of the Mysterious Merlin'."

Ron snorted, but Hermione cut across him.

"How are they getting on with Old Magic?"

"Pretty well," he answered. "They're not really that powerful, so I'll doubt they'll ever be great Old Religion sorcerers, but they're happy with what they can get. I might teach them that whole fusion thing I taught you, Harry. It might suit them better."

"And what about Malfoy," Harry asked, despite himself.

At this, Merlin seemed to hesitate. "He's doing well too," he said, not looking at any of them. "Anyway, Fred and George are the reason I'm late. They had a bit of a disaster in the kitchen. Tried to do all the dishes by Old Magic."

"So glad you have to live with them now instead of me," Ron smirked, settling back in his chair. "Why don't you get your own place?"

"What's the point?" said Merlin. "I'll be living at the castle come September. It's all the home I need."

"Aren't you going to have a lesson?" Hermione asked, looking eager. "I've been reading Ravenclaw's book again and all the stuff she wrote on Apparition is fascinating. She actually invented a new way of doing it, with your help of course, and she wrote loads about Transporting as well and-"

"Woah," smiled Merlin. "Neither of them are ready for something as difficult as that, not even Harry. It took _me_ years to learn it. Harry's not quite there yet. In a couple of months perhaps."

"Ravenclaw learned-"

"Rowena only learnt the fusion version of Transporting," explained Merlin. "The way I do it is far more difficult and dangerous. If Transporting goes wrong, you don't Splinch yourself, you rip yourself to pieces. I won't try that with any of you for a while yet."

Hermione's face fell, and Merlin laughed.

"You're not even the one doing the magic, Hermione. Why are you so eager?"

"I just love learning about it," she said, her eyes shining. "I'm actually witnessing ancient magic right in front of me. I don't care that I can't learn it; it's fascinating enough as it is."

"How can you enjoy watching something you can't do?" Ron asked, dumbfounded.

Hermione frowned. "I can't play Quidditch, but I still enjoy watching you and Harry play," she said. "I don't have to use Old Magic to appreciate it."

"I _knew_ you liked Quidditch!" Ron said.

"I never said I didn't, Ron. I just realise there are more important things in the world than obsessing over-"

"Are we getting a lesson tonight?" Harry interrupted.

"It's a bit late," said Merlin, apologetically. "I just thought I'd come and see you anyway. I've got a whole day teaching at the Ministry tomorrow. Why don't I just run over the basics with you, Ron?"

Harry nodded, but felt somewhat disappointed. Although not desperate for learning the Old Magic like he had once been, he was still eager to learn more, for his own sake now, rather than for the sake of everyone else.

Merlin got Ron to run through the basic exercises several times, getting him to light candle after candle, change the colours, and create shapes out of the flames. Ron sat there, concentrating fiercely, his eyes flashing golden every few seconds, speaking the words as clearly as he could, though still not pronouncing them _exactly_ right. It was going well, until-

"Woah!" yelled Ron, leaping back from the blackened remains of the table. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right," said Merlin, though he was hurriedly batting at some sparks that had landed on his robes. "But you're still not concentrating on reining everything back. Release the magic _slowly_."

"But you said to build it up! How can I do that without releasing it more quickly?"

"More control," said Merlin. "Read Godric's book again. He had the same trouble you did. As does Draco, funnily enough."

Ron grimaced, but nodded.

Merlin leaned back in his chair. His eyes fell on the newspaper again, and he frowned. He unfurled it and read an article next to the _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ advertisement. A thoughtful expression came over his face as he read.

"What is it?" Harry asked, and Merlin passed him the paper. Harry opened it to read:

_The International Statute of Secrecy: An Outdated Ideal?_

_More unrest at the Ministry as campaigners continue to harass Ministry employees. _

_Activists, calling themselves the 'Liberators', have been flooding into the Ministry Atrium since late last night to promote their views on the abolition of the International Statute of Secrecy. The leader of this organisation, Mr Cicero Verax, 42, of Newcastle, spoke to the _Daily Prophet_ this morning about why he is advocating such a change, and why he believes witches and wizards up and down the country should embrace his ideology._

"_It makes sense," he insisted. "For three hundred years the wizarding community has been in hiding, we've been ashamed of who we are. We as a group feel that this is wrong and it is time for change. We should no longer have to hide."_

_His organisation has grown rapidly in just a few short months, with several high-profile figures from prominent families pledging their support. But what has prompted such a change, this _Daily Prophet_ reporter asked Mr Verax this morning._

"_Merlin, of course," he smiles at me. "The greatest sorcerer ever to live has returned to our community after over a thousand years in exile. Imagine, the greatest man to ever live, hiding who he is for fear of persecution! We believe that this is wrong. Merlin has spoken publicly about his relief at no longer having to hide, and we feel the same way. We don't want to hide from Muggles anymore. We want to embrace our own lives once again."_

_But what about the Muggles, I ask him. Most Muggles have long since stopped believing in magic, what would such a revelation do to them? Is he wary of a repeat of the witch-hunts?_

"_Of course, it'll be difficult," Mr Verax says, shrugging his shoulders. "But it doesn't mean that we shouldn't try. We've been treating Muggles like mindless cattle for far too long. What right do we have to mess around with their memories, or cast any sort of violating spell on them? It is selfish of us to alter them unknowingly in this way. Merlin reminded us all of one thing when he returned: Muggles and wizards can live side-by-side. He is the only one in the world who can remember a time when magical and Muggles worked together. With his guidance, why can it not be that way again?"_

_I ask Mr Verax whether or not he has approached Merlin about these issues, and whether he has expressed interest._

"_I haven't; he's so difficult to find these days! But I'm sure he would be interested. He's worked with Muggles before, and I'm certain he'd be eager to do it again. He cannot be happy with the situation as it is at the moment."_

_But how can such a campaign succeed, I ask him, when there are dozens of countries party to the Statute? Does he believe other countries will be so willing to comply?_

"_If Merlin asks, I'm sure they will agree," he says, a twinkle in his eye. "Minister Shacklebolt has made himself very unpopular internationally by refusing countless invitations to other countries on Merlin's behalf. The world is clamouring to hear more of Merlin, and what better way to do that than reignite the vision he had thirteen hundred years ago?"_

_The demonstrations look to continue for several days yet, as the Liberators seek to put more and more pressure on the Ministry to act. But with several Ministry spokespersons having denied all reports of the Minister even considering such a radical approach, questions remain to whether or not these Liberators will be content to confine themselves to peaceful demonstrations._

_Merlin was unavailable for comment._

Harry looked up. "Unavailable for comment?"

"I cast a spell to stop all owls finding me," said Merlin, looking distant. "And I spent most of the day hiding in the back of Fred and George's shop."

"I read it earlier," said Hermione. "It seems like a crazy idea."

"Of course it is," said Ron, who had read it over Harry's shoulder. "It's completely mental! The Muggles wouldn't be able to handle it. An entire secret population hiding amongst them for the last three hundred years? I wouldn't be surprised if they got the torches and pitchforks out again!"

"Maybe they wouldn't?" said Hermione, though she looked doubtful. "I mean, it may take some time-"

"There was a thousand years between Camelot and the International Statute of Secrecy," Harry pointed out. "They never managed to resolve their differences in all that time, why should now be any different?"

"But Muggles have moved on-"

"Have they?" asked Harry, thinking of his aunt and uncle. "Muggles have enough problems of their own. If we just drop this bombshell on them all of a sudden, who knows what would happen?"

"These Liberators sound kind of dodgy to me," said Ron. "What's with all the hero-worship that Verax guy was doing? Sound like fanatics to me."

"That last bit sounds ominous," Harry agreed. "You don't think they'd do something extreme do you?"

"Maybe if Kingsley showed he was willing to listen-"

"This is an _International_ Statute of Secrecy, Hermione," said Ron. "Kingsley doesn't have sole control here. I don't think they get just how big of a thing this'll be. I mean, how many countries in the world have signed it? It'll never work."

"What do you think, Merlin?" Hermione asked.

They looked to Merlin, and saw him staring into the fire, having said nothing. It was a moment before he looked at them.

"Muggles and wizards working side-by-side?" he said. "It's been my dream for thirteen hundred years. Anyone who's seen the extent of the death and destruction that I have would feel the same."

"Maybe, but it is possible?" Hermione asked. "Or is it just too much to ask?"

Merlin was silent for a long moment. Then, he stood up and crossed the room to the Fat Lady's Portrait. He looked back at them.

"I need to go," he said. "I need to think."

And with that, he left.

* * *

Merlin stood alone in the Entrance Hall, looking out through the open doors into the moonlight covered grounds beyond. Suddenly, his heart was beating more rapidly than usual.

Ending the International Statute of Secrecy? He'd dreamed of nothing else since the day it had been signed. But Hermione's final question still rang in his ears.

_Is it possible?  
_

* * *

**A/N: I hope you like!**

**I've written 9 chapters of this story so far, and I'll be updating weekly (probably every Sunday) since I have a lot of uni work and don't want the pressure of churning out too many chapters quickly. In 9 weeks time I'll have another few chapters written, and that way you'll be sure of consistent updates :)**


	2. An Incident at the Ministry

**A/N: Wow! Thanks for the amazing response! Sorry the sequel took so long! I only hope it lives up to expectations!**

**So, as promised, my Sunday update, crammed into the few minutes I could spare between heading out with my mum and gran for Mother's Day and the fact that the clocks went forward leaving me one hour short of sleep. Hope you enjoy! :)  
**

* * *

An Incident at the Ministry

"That's good," said Merlin to the assembled witches and wizards in the Auror department. "You're all doing really well."

"No, we're not," said Wilson, one of the younger Aurors, nursing an injured arm. "We're all rubbish."

"Well, yes," admitted Merlin, with a hint of a smile. "But it's a great start, and that's the truth. Give it a few months and you won't have any trouble at all."

They looked doubtful, and Merlin couldn't help but laugh. Of all the Aurors at the Ministry, twenty-six had proven to be capable of learning Old Magic, and he now taught small groups of them almost every day, as well as the civilian witches and wizards who came into the department and the ones in the DA and Order. Tonks had shown an aptitude for Old Magic as well, but had declined his invitation to learn it. 'I'm clumsy enough with normal magic,' had been her answer, and Merlin had accepted her concerns to be justified. Besides, she rarely had any time to learn, what with her normal Auror duties and caring for Teddy, who was now approaching his first birthday. Merlin secretly suspected her Metamorphic abilities had something to do with her Old Magic, but he had yet to meet another Metamorphagus to try out his theory. He believed she may possess a significant amount of power, and hoped to one day convince her to utilise it. _Very_ carefully.

The lessons were going well, if slowly. Thankfully, there was no Voldemort or Morgana to worry about at the moment.

"I think we'll leave it there today," Merlin said, as, just on cue, Fawkes suddenly appeared out of thin air and perched on his shoulder, drawing the usual gasp from those who witnessed it. "Same time and same place next week. Keep practicing those exercises."

They all nodded, and bid him goodbye, some still a little shy around him. They all left the training room, and Merlin followed out onto the main corridor of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Immediately, he turned and headed towards the lifts, and stepped inside, pressing the Atrium button. There was only one other occupant of the lift, a young wizard carrying a box of files. He took one look at Merlin and squeaked, turning a furious red. He turned away, as though afraid to look at him.

Merlin tried not to let this bother him, but it still did. Although it had been what he had wanted for so many centuries, going around using his real name was still something he had to get used to again. He knew now how Harry felt.

It was only a short trip however, and he stepped out into the Atrium, and met the expected pandemonium. About a hundred witches and wizards were gathered here, some carrying large flashing signs, others crying out slogans, all gathered around the new statue in the centre of the Atrium, a figure representing the very first Minister for Magic. It was the first statue in the Ministry that Merlin had ever actually approved of; that wizard had ended the tyranny of the Wizards' Council and created a better, fairer organisation to represent ordinary people.

Ministry witches and wizards, along with a few Aurors were running around, trying to keep the peace, but the crowd were getting very unruly. A few banners caught his eye: 'Friends to Muggles, not Masters', 'An end to secrecy', 'Magical and Muggle Cooperation' and 'Stop Spell Suppression'. He recognised that last one as being the motto of a witch named Carlotta Pinkstone, who he recalled getting into a lot of trouble several years ago for repeatedly using magic in front of Muggles. He should have known she'd be here.

A man was standing before the statue, holding his arms up to the crowd, basking in the eyes of everyone there. He was short, middle-aged, with a rounded face which was shining with exertion. He had mousy brown hair that barely covered a prominent forehead. He was dressed in long grey robes, which stretched tightly across his chest. His eyes were small and dark, but sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Let us end our long imprisonment!" he was calling to the rapturous crowd. "No longer should we be ashamed of our heritage. Let us embrace the Muggles, our wandless friends!"

"Yeah? And what if they embrace us with burning pyres?" one Ministry wizard shouted from the back, to a chorus of boos. "What then?"

"We are fellow human beings!" the man, who was obviously Cicero Verax, called back. "Given the opportunity, they will welcome us too. With time, we can once again be a fully integrated society. We can end the Long Separation!"

"End to separation!" one witch cried out.

"Friends to Muggles!"

"No more Memory Charms!"

Merlin stood in rapt attention, watching the energy of the crowd, the cries of the people, and Verax standing there, taking it all in, a smug smile on his face. Fawkes squawked on his shoulder, and clenched his claws deep into Merlin's shoulder. Merlin turned to him, confused. What upset him so? Surely there was no danger to be found here?

But Fawkes was restless, and turned his beautiful head away from the crowd, as though grieved by what he saw.

"I thought I'd find you here," said a voice from behind. Kingsley was standing there, having just exited the lift, hard eyes on the crowd beyond. "Don't you think the sight of the great Merlin with a phoenix on his shoulder might whip this crowd into an even greater frenzy than it's in now?"

"Would that be a bad thing?" Merlin asked.

Kingsley surveyed him with one critical eye. "We should leave," he said. "The sight of the two of us might rile them even further."

"Perhaps you're right," said Merlin, and reluctantly turned away from the crowd, still thinking furiously. Fawkes immediately seemed to relax as he and Kingsley walked away, and into a nearby alcove where they could observe the crowd without being seen themselves.

Kingsley was watching him carefully. Merlin still had his eyes fixed on the crowd, unable to tear his eyes away.

"I don't understand quite how this happened," Kingsley said. "Just two days ago, not a whisper about any of this. Now … There were eighty here yesterday, today, twice that number, and more keep arriving. They must have been planning this in secret for months. It's all rather come out of nowhere."

"Not nowhere," said Merlin, his eye still on Verax. "This has been building up for the last three hundred years. The fact that more people seem to be arriving is surely testament to the fact that there is widespread call for this."

"You agree with them?" Kingsley asked, though not looking surprised.

Merlin hesitated a moment. "Yes," he said finally. "The Old Religion is back, after waiting so long. This is the next step. This has to be done."

"Yes," said Kingsley. "One day, yes, it must. But are we ready for it now?"

"I have to help," said Merlin. "Verax is right; I'm the only one who remembers a time of peace between Muggles and sorcerers. This is what I have to do."

"I thought you'd fulfilled your destiny?" said Kingsley. "That is why you were made mortal. The Old Religion surely does not intend for you to take up yet another task?"

Merlin was silent. He searched deep within him, and found none of those whispered messages he'd been so used to hearing over the centuries, no urges, no instincts. They'd become increasingly rare ever since he had killed Morgana, and the silence was unnerving. The Old Religion was not telling him he must do this, but regardless, he knew this was the right thing to do. Surely the Old Religion would let him know if he was making a mistake?

Fawkes gave a soft mournful cry on his shoulder.

"This separation has to end," Merlin said firmly. He looked towards Kingsley. "Are you telling me you do not agree? That you won't even listen to him?"

"It is not within my jurisdiction to grant what he wants," said Kingsley. "It is for the International Confederation of Wizards to decide."

"But surely you have some influence with them?" Merlin asked. "Can't you at least broach the subject with them? Make the first step towards ending this stupid law?"

"Is it stupid?" Kingsley asked him, staring at him intensely. "Are the Muggles ready? Would they accept us?"

"Maybe they should be given a chance," said Merlin, staring back. "They aren't mindless creatures."

"That is my point," said Kingsley. "They have their own problems, their own conflicts, their own internal divides. What would happen if we suddenly intruded into their world? They would fear us, they would see us as a threat."

Merlin looked away, his heart beating painfully. "You don't want to see an end to separation?" he asked. "You don't want an end to hiding ourselves away?"

"I think perhaps you want this for the wrong reasons, Merlin," said Kingsley, his voice a little too understanding.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You've spent the last thirteen hundred years waiting for the chance to reveal yourself again," Kingsley said. "You've done that. You don't need to do this as well. You don't have to hide amongst your own kind any more, isn't that enough?"

"No," said Merlin, feeling an old pain flare up unexpectedly. "Because _they're_ my kind as well. I was raised by a Muggle, in a village filled with Muggles. I didn't meet another sorcerer until I was fully grown, for several years all of my friends were solely Muggles. I may be a sorcerer, but I'm allied to them as well. I owe it to them."

Kingsley made no answer to this, and just let his eyes fall on Verax, who was still speaking emphatically to the crowd.

"He wants me to petition the International Confederation of Wizards," he said, nodding to Verax. "Propose the annulment of the Statute."

"Why don't you?"

"I don't cater to each and every whim that crosses my path," said Kingsley. "This issue, regardless of what you say, has appeared from nowhere. I need more evidence other than colourful slogans and charismatic speakers before I can even begin to consider the issue seriously."

"You have it," said Merlin gesturing to the crowds, which were rising in volume. "There is your evidence. Plenty of people want this."

"Perhaps," said Kingsley, looking at Merlin curiously. "Speaking of international wizards, I've received yet more invitations for you to visit foreign Ministries. You cannot keep declining them, they are getting impatient."

Merlin sighed. "I have responsibilities here; I can't rush off and go visit the pyramids or climb the Eiffel Tower with a bunch of fawning ambassadors."

"They want to know more about Old Magic."

"Of course they do," said Merlin. "They hate the fact that we're the only country in the world actually learning it. They want a piece of it. But I just can't teach every sorcerer in the world. They'll have to wait until there are more of us."

"They won't be happy with that."

"Naturally. But they have to face facts," Merlin answered. "I'll do the World Tour thing, eventually. But not until Harry's training is complete. Someone needs to stick around and keep it going until I get back. He's the only one I'd trust to teach it to others. He's the only one else I think properly understands it. And besides, I've already met the Australian Minister for Magic!

"That doesn't count," said Kingsley. "You were already in Australia with Harry and the others to find Hermione's parents. And from what he wrote to me, you were rather rude."

"Not rude, just not willing to publically endorse his campaign for re-election," Merlin answered. "I didn't even know the man. I don't like my name being used for political purposes."

"You don't like embracing your own fame," said Kingsley. "But you're perfectly happy for Verax and these 'Liberators' to use your name in their campaign?"

"That's different," said Merlin. "Creating peace between Muggles and sorcerers in Camelot is one of the few things I've done in my life that I _am_ proud of."

"And you think you can recreate it here?"

Merlin avoided looking at him. "Perhaps," he murmured. Kingsley stared at him for the longest time, before nodding to himself. "Very well," he said slowly. "I had best get back to my office before this mob turns on me. I suggest you get yourself home as well."

Kingsley walked off, fixing Merlin with one last look before leaving. Merlin stood on the spot, debating with himself. He should go back to Grimmauld Place, he knew that that the best thing to do, but something stopped him. The crowd was growing ever larger, and Verax' speeches were growing in fervour. Merlin stared at him for the longest time. There was something about the man, something that he did not like, the smarminess of his expression, the glint in his eyes, yet … Merlin couldn't bear to leave just yet.

Then, despite, Fawkes' squawks of protest, Merlin found himself inching closer to the statue, where Verax was standing, arranging himself in a similar pose to the statue behind him. Merlin felt his heart beating even faster as his words began to reach his ears.

Peace between wizards and Muggles, it was something he'd longed for almost as much as the return of the Old Religion. The pain of all those years of persecution, the countless burnings he had seen, endless streams of traumatised orphans, crazed Muggles with flaming torches, all of that haunted his dreams, haunted his thoughts. The world had gone so badly wrong back then, and Merlin had spent every day of those thirteen hundred years yearning for a better future, a time when all of this would finally end. Was this the chance the Old Religion had intended?

"A time of peace existed once long ago, in the great city of Camelot," Verax was saying to a tumultuous crowd. "There, Muggles and wizards lived side-by-side, in harmony. Why can such a vision not exist once again? Why should such harmony be resigned only to history books and fairy tales? Bring it back, I say. We have the means. Merlin has returned to us, now is surely the time. Old Magic has returned, the Old Ways are returning. The Old Peace can return as well. End the Long Separation!"

Merlin moved closer and closer, now making his way through the crowd, which parted easily, looking in awe at Merlin and Fawkes both, stopping their cheering, and whispering behind their hands.

Merlin slowly found himself at the front. Verax, confused at the sudden silence of his audience, frowned, and looked around. He stopped in amazement when he saw Merlin, his little eyes growing wide, and his jaw hanging open.

Merlin stared evenly back at him, casting out his magic towards the man, seeing whether he could be trusted. Verax was not making it easy. There was an air of ambiguity surrounding him. His magic was not particularly powerful, and Merlin knew without even doing the test that the man would be hopeless at Old Magic, but there was a sharpness in his eye that bespoke a greater intelligence, and a gleam of ambition. He was a self-proclaimed visionary, smug and self-satisfied, but were there good intentions beneath all of that? Did he truly believe what he was preaching?

The crowd was now entirely silent, staring between Merlin and Verax with eager anticipation. Verax' astonishment did not last long, and he soon regained control of himself. He grinned, and lifted his arms up in the air in what he must have thought was a welcoming gesture, but actually looked as though he wanted to snatch Merlin away. His hands were trembling with suppressed excitement.

"You see here, my friends," he called to the crowd. "The great Merlin is amongst us!"

Frenzied whispering broke out, beginning at the back of the crowd, where the demonstrators had been unable to see what was going on. Verax' smile widened.

"Surely this is what we have all waited for?" he said. "For Merlin himself to pledge his support for our cause?"

Merlin stared at the man, stared at him for several long minutes into those dark sparkling eyes, searching for the sincerity he dearly hoped was there, searching for some sign that the man was to be trusted.

"I wouldn't be so hasty, Mr Verax," Merlin said, still critiquing the man in front of him. "I haven't decided one way or the other yet."

Verax' smile seemed to falter for the briefest of moments, before it was back in place, beaming at the crowd.

"You support the Reintegration, do you not?"

"Yes, I do," Merlin answered carefully. "But I'm not sure if I support _you_ yet."

"We are merely servants trying to carry on your vision," said Verax, inclining his head slightly. "You are the reason we are all here."

_Yes, he's a smarmy git all right_, Merlin thought to himself. _A right boot-licker._

"And tell me, why should I give support to a movement run by you?" Merlin asked, eyes still fixed on Verax. "I've seen plenty of people speak out against the International Statute of Secrecy over the centuries, why do you think you shall succeed where so many others have failed?"

Verax' grin grew wider. "Because, in this century, we have _you_," he said. "With your assistance, we cannot fail."

Merlin's assessment of the man was still uncertain. The man was confident, certainly, though arrogant and a right sycophant. Merlin could see the man's ambition, his whole body seemed to pulsate with it. This was no mere passing fancy, this man was determined, he was intelligent. But did that mean trustworthy?

"Given time, I am sure you shall support us," said Verax. "The evidence is insurmountable, _now _is the time to stand up for our Muggle brethren, _now_ is the time to end our race's long exile. I have no doubt that you will realise that. With you advocating our cause, Mr Shacklebolt will have to accept our demands, and send a delegation to the International Confederation."

"And what if he doesn't?" Merlin asked. "What then will you do? Would you ever resort to violence?"

"Violence solves nothing," the man said. "We have long since moved past such pettiness."

And, unnervingly, Merlin could not be certain if the man was lying or not. Verax, and Merlin's inability to read him, made him uneasy.

"I'll think about it," said Merlin, searching the man's face one last time.

Verax bowed slightly again. "Your judgment shall mean everything to us, Merlin. We know you shall make the right choice."

Merlin tuned and left the Atrium, passing through the still silent and breathless crowd as easily as a boat through water. Fawkes was quivering on his shoulder, but Merlin paid him no heed. His mind was too caught up in memory, in questions and worries. He was genuinely at a loss.

That he wanted the International Statute of Secrecy abolished, he was certain, but was this the right way to go about it? The Old Religion was suspiciously quiet these days. As much as he'd hated it telling him what to do constantly for thirteen hundred years, he now found he rather missed its constant guidance. Is this what it wanted? Was this a new task for him to complete?

"Well, that was rather dramatic."

Merlin was jerked out of his ruminations by a red headed figure that had fallen into step beside him as he neared the exit of the Ministry. Percy Weasley was beside him, looking half nervous, half admiring.

"Where did you come from?" Merlin asked, surprised at being surprised.

"I was in the crowd," Percy explained, polishing his glasses. "I wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

"And what do you think?" Merlin asked, stopping in his tracks just before the fireplaces in the Atrium. "Do you support this Reintegration, or not?"

Percy looked thoughtful, and took his time before answering.

"I believe that it is inevitable, one day," he said. "We can't exist separately forever, eventually they'll notice us. And if that happens, it may make them suspicious of us. Then again, springing this on them suddenly might just scare them. It's a very complicated situation."

Merlin sighed and nodded, knowing better than to get a straight answer out of Percy. It looked like he was going to have to figure this out on his own.

Then, Merlin felt a sudden change in the atmosphere of the Atrium, though nothing outwardly looked any different. He spun on the spot, feeling a horrible foreboding in his gut. There was danger here.

His eyes went straight to Verax, but nothing seemed amiss, he was still preaching loudly to the crowd. Was it one of the demonstrators? One of the Ministry employees?

"Merlin? What is it?" Percy asked, following Merlin's line of vision.

"There's something wrong here," Merlin said, the feeling of danger still growing within him.

"Yes there is," a voice sounded behind him. "Something very wrong indeed."

An old man was standing behind them, so old, he was bent over almost backwards. He had a long white beard sprouting from his chin, and he was dressed in flowing blue robes, leaning on an ancient staff. His wand was in his other hand, and it was pointed directly at Merlin.

Percy made to draw his own wand, but Merlin stopped him, intrigued by the old man, and the sense of danger he was emanating. Fawkes' grip on Merlin's shoulders tightened. He stepped closer.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, immediately on his guard as he noticing a flash of anger in the man's eyes. The demonstration was continuing behind them, no one having noticed the old man.

"_You _are what's wrong," the old man scowled. "Standing there bold as brass. I saw you! You went right up to Verax and didn't even attempt to deny it!"

"Deny that I want the International Statute to end? Why would I when-"

"Not that," the old man hissed, hobbling closer. "Your so-called _name._"

An element of understanding crept into Merlin's mind then, but he didn't say anything, and just kept continuing to stare the old man down. The man's anger just seemed to increase.

"How dare you stand there and claim to be the great Merlin," the man spat, confirming Merlin's suspicions. "What gives you the right to play with us all like this?"

"I am not playing with you," Merlin said, much more calmly than he felt. "I _am_ Merlin."

The man scoffed. "I do not believe you," he said. "You're nothing more than a charlatan. An imposter."

"He is not!" Percy said, his pace tinged with pink in his indignation. "I've seen his magic. I saw him kill Morgana. How can you ignore so much evidence?"

"Evidence?" the man said. "Who was to say she even was Morgana? I'm sure you're a good wizard, boy. But all those fancy tricks and puffs of smoke won't fool me. You're a disgrace, you're shaming the memory of the great man himself."

"How dare you-" Percy began angrily, but again, Merlin stopped him from going further. He turned back to the man, a sadness in his heart. This man wasn't the first to confront him. Many people did not believe he was who he said he was, no matter how much Old Magic he showed them. Merlin had given up trying to convince them, and just hoped they'd eventually see the truth on their own.

"I am who I say I am," Merlin said. "I'm sorry that you do not believe me."

"Merlin was a great man, a powerful sorcerer, not a scrawny little _boy_," the man growled, his wand shaking in his hand. "He's been our hero for centuries, our inspiration, our guidance. How can _you_ possibly hope to fill his shoes? How could _you_ ever be half the man he was?"

Although he tried not to let it, the man's words bothered him. These were the very words that had haunted him for centuries, tormenting himself for his past failures, lamenting for the past in which he had been so much better, before he had let it all slip away. His days of hating himself for what had happened were now gone after seeing Arthur and the Knights at Avalon on Hallowe'en, but were not forgotten. Still, a trace of guilt lingered unbidden at the back of his mind. But he would not allow it to control his life once again. He pushed it back impatiently.

"I won't argue with you," Merlin said. "Neither of us will convince the other. I just hope you come to your senses soon."

Then, he turned his back on the man and began walking away again, Percy at his side.

"Coward!" cried the man. "Lying coward! Turn and face me! Let's see the power of _Merlin._ Fight me!"

But Merlin ignored the man, even though the man's shouts had been so loud as to command the attention of Verax and the crowd. The sense of danger was not decreasing however, but increasing.

"I knew it!" screeched the man in the now silent Atrium. "You're not Merlin at all. And I can prove it! _Avada Kedavra!"_

Merlin's heart almost stopped as he heard the last phrase; the man was more dangerous than he had thought.

Quick as a flash, Merlin spun around, his eyes burned golden, and the Killing Curse bounced harmlessly off the shimmering shield he had conjured in front of himself. Several people in the Atrium screamed. Fawkes sprung from his shoulder and soared away squawking urgently.

Merlin glared at the man. "Fancy tricks and puffs of smoke, is it?" he demanded, seeing the man reel in shock and fear. "What Modern Magic can resist a Killing Curse, I wonder? Nothing but the Old Religion, if you don't see that then-"

"Merlin!"

A terrified voice to his left drew his attention, and his stomach lurched to see several Ministry wizards surrounding a crumpled form on the floor. The woman who had cried out, one of the Aurors from his classes, was on the ground by the other person, her face turned up to him with an expression of horror on her face.

"The Killing Curse," she stammered. "It rebounded. It hit …"

Merlin flew over to the Ministry wizards to see the person that had been hit, cursing himself for being so careless as to give no thought to the rebound. His blood went cold as he saw the vivid red hair.

Percy was lying on the floor, his glasses askew, his eyes closed, his limbs in a tangle after being thrown away from Merlin by the force of the Curse. He was deathly still.

"No!" Merlin cried, and fell to his knees by Percy's prone form, terror spreading through his entire body.

"He's alive!" said one of the Ministry officials disbelievingly, after taking a pulse. "But, the Curse-"

"Its power must have been lessened after hitting my shield," said Merlin, delirious with relief. But he soon pushed that away, and began to examine Percy, desperate to determine the truth for himself.

True enough, Percy was alive. His pulse was weak, and his breathing shallow, and he was still terribly still, his body somewhat cold to the touch, as though trying to decide whether it was dead or not.

Merlin laid his hands over Percy's chest, and closed his eyes. "_Bregdan hine bæc.  
Hē is bilewit. Hǣlian hine."_

He released the magic into Percy's body, sending it to every inch, letting the force of the Old Magic revitalise him, repair the damage, restore the life. Fawkes cried mournfully. Percy twitched.

Merlin fell back and gasped after such a huge spell. "We need to get him to St. Mungo's. He'll live, but I'm not sure how much damage has been done. Send for his father, he's on Level 2."

A witch nodded and ran towards the lifts, and a nearby wizard pulled out his wand and conjured a stretcher, and began lowering Percy on to it. Merlin turned and walked towards the old man, who was now being restrained by two Aurors, though this was hardly necessary since he was staring at Merlin with dumfounded awe and fear.

"B-but," he gasped. "You-you _can't_ be him!"

"I am," said Merlin, glaring at the man. He turned away then, not wanting to argue any further. It was then he noticed all of the demonstrators had gone silent and were staring at him in awe. Beyond them, standing on a podium in front of the statue, Verax was watching him too. There was a gleeful look on his face, greedy almost.

Merlin turned back to Percy, who was now being taking out of the Atrium. As he walked, he felt the eyes boring into his back, the eyes of Cicero Verax, staring at him so intensely he could feel it even from this distance.

It was not a feeling he liked.

* * *

"How is he?" Ron demanded, the moment he, Harry, Hermione and Ginny had stormed into the waiting room at St. Mungo's. The entire Weasley family, plus several Order members looked up as they entered.

"What are you doing here?" Remus asked, seeing that Mr and Mrs Weasley were too pale and anxious to say anything. "How did you find out?"

"McGonagall," answered Ron. "That portrait in her office of the Healer told her. But why didn't any of you bother to let us know? He's my brother!"

"I was just on my way to Hogwarts," said Remus. "I only got here five minutes ago myself. Tonks heard about it at the Ministry and told me. Everyone else was at the Burrow when Arthur sent the Owl telling them what had happened."

"And what did happen?" asked Harry, his heart racing the way it did when any of his friends were in trouble. "Is he alright?"

"He's alive," said Charlie, his voice a little hoarse. "Somehow, he's alive. He was hit by a Killing Curse that was meant for Merlin. That's literally all I know. Merlin's with him now."

"Well then, he'll be fine won't he?" said Ginny, though her voice shook. "Merlin can cure anything. He brought _me_ back from the dead!"

"_Killing Curse?_" repeated Harry. "Who was firing a Killing Curse at _Merlin?_ Are they mental?"

"Might as well be," said Bill, who was sitting with his arm around his mother. "He didn't believe Merlin was who he claimed to be. And he isn't the first. I've seen him in a lot of confrontations like that since you lot went back to school. None of them have ever tried to _kill _him before though."

"None would dare if they knew the truth," said Charlie. "Apparently the Killing Curse just bounced straight off his shield. Thank goodness it lost some of its potency when it did, otherwise Percy would be …"

Mrs Weasley let out a sob here, and Mr Weasley glared at his son.

"He'll be alright," said Harry, trying to convince himself as well as everyone else. "Merlin knows what he's doing."

A silence followed these words, and everyone just avoided looking at each other. Charlie paced up and down the waiting room, as did Fred and George after a while. No one spoke, not even to comfort. Hermione held Ron's hand in her own, and Ginny sat by Harry, resting her head on his shoulder, as though sleeping, but really trying to mask her own worry. A sense of dread lay upon them all, which wasn't dispelled until there was a soft knock on the door and a Healer walked in. At once, Mrs Weasley leapt to her feet.

"Is he-"

"Your son is just fine, Mrs Weasley," the Healer smiled. "He's awake. Mer- Merlin's done wonders. You can go to him now."

She nodded and raced towards the door on the opposite side of the corridor where Percy was, everyone following her, though Harry, Hermione and Remus felt they should hang back since they weren't family. Ron just rolled his eyes at them and pulled them with him.

They entered the white ward to find Percy the single occupant of a bed on the far side, by the window. Merlin was standing against the wall beside the bed, his face expressionless, but even so, Harry could see a tension in the way he was holding himself. He was staring straight at the bed.

Percy was lying there, propped up against some pillows. He was pale, his glasses were on the table beside him, and he seemed too weak to reach out and get them, but he was awake, and he smiled as he saw them approaching.

"Oh, Percy!" wailed Mrs Weasley, and threw herself on him, while Mr Weasley stood at her side, beaming, laying a hand on his son's shoulder as though to reassure himself he was really there. "I'm so glad you're alright! After everything that's happened, after spending so much time apart I couldn't have stood it if you-"

"Now now, Molly," said Mr Weasley, though he was a bit watery-eyed himself. "Don't strangle the poor lad."

"I'm alright, Mother," said Percy, smiling up at her. "Really."

"You were hit by a Killing Curse, mate," said Charlie.

"Yeah, can we call you The-Other-Boy-Who-Lived now?" joked Fred, though he looked pale himself.

"You should be dead," said Bill.

"Well, I'm not, thanks to Merlin," said Percy turning towards him. "He saved my life."

Merlin shook his head, looking anguished. "Don't," he said. "I shouldn't have had to do that. I was stupid and careless, and it almost cost you your life."

"What do you mean?" Mrs Weasley asked, a somewhat steely edge to her voice, still clutching Percy's arm.

"The Killing Curse was aimed at me, not Percy," said Merlin, hanging his head. "My shield was only enough to cover me. I didn't even think to shield Percy as well, I didn't even consider the rebound-"

"It's alright, mate," said Ron. "He's fine now, isn't he?"

"Yes," said the Healer, who had followed them into the room. "I don't know what you did, Merlin, but you saved him. He's weak, and he'll need some Strengthening Solutions for a few days, but he'll fully recover. At least, we think so; we've never treated anyone who's survived a Killing Curse before."

"He'll be fine," said Merlin, though he didn't look overly happy about it. "I've repaired the damage."

Mrs Weasley nodded, and set about fussing over Percy's sheets. Remus looked to Merlin.

"What were you doing in the Atrium?" he asked. "I thought you always got Fawkes to sneak you out after training sessions?"

"I do," said Merlin, quietly. "But I went to see the demonstrations. I met Cicero Verax."

Mr Weasley turned sharply to him here. "Verax?" he asked, a sharp note in his voice. "And what were you doing talking with him?"

Merlin frowned at his tone. "Do you know him?"

"Oh yes," said Mr Weasley darkly. "We were at school together, same year only he was in Ravenclaw. Smug, narrow-minded git."

"Arthur!" reprimanded Mrs Weasley, but Mr Weasley shook his head.

"He was and you know it," he said. "Always so full of himself and his own intelligence. We were in Muggle Studies together. If I'm honest, I don't know why he's so obsessed with the International Statute of Secrecy now."

"Why?" asked Merlin.

"It never struck me that he had any particular regard for Muggles," said Mr Weasley, thinking back. "He studied them, he found them fascinating like I did. But, I was always admiring them and how they manage without magic. I wanted to meet them, become friends with them. He … well, the way he talked about them was as though they were animals in a zoo to study rather than human beings. I didn't like him."

"Maybe he's different now," said Merlin, looking at the floor. "Maybe being out in the world amongst Muggles has changed his mind."

Mr Weasley frowned. "You don't support him do you?" he asked. "I know you hate the Statute, but would you really trust a man like him to achieve it?"

"I'm not sure," said Merlin. "All I know is that he's the first man I've seen in three centuries who actually seems like he has the ambition to do it."

"But does he have the right motivations?" Remus asked, and Merlin was silent.

They all fell into silence, sitting by Percy, as the Healer bustled about with potions and vials. She glanced at Merlin, almost shyly.

"M-Merlin?" she asked, hesitatingly. She blushed as he met her eyes. "I, uh, well, you said you might be able to tell us what's wrong with … with the coma patients?"

Merlin nodded, and sighed. "I examined them earlier after I'd healed Percy. There's nothing I can do for them."

"They're dying?" the Healer asked.

"No," he said, and he looked disturbed. "They … they've been using Old Magic haven't they?"

She frowned in thought. "Well, yes, their families did say-"

"They never came to me," said Merlin. "They didn't look for instruction from me. They tried to learn on their own, and the magic overwhelmed them. They're in no danger. They'll simply stay in the comas until their bodies recover. Just keep them as comfortable as possible."

"You warned me that could happen," Harry said. "Is it really that dangerous? Could someone die from it?"

"I don't know," said Merlin. "I've never heard of it happening before. Even though the Old Magic has returned, it's still dangerous to use without proper instruction. I had students in Camelot who ended up in comas for a few days. Godric Gryffindor was in one for two months. We need to stop this happening."

"I'm not sure you can," said Bill. "People aren't too happy with the fact you're the only one who's allowed to teach it, and the fact you turn some people away is making you unpopular. They think you're trying to conceal it from them."

"I am," admitted Merlin. "They can't just rush headlong into this without thinking. I don't want them to think I'm controlling them, but, I have to. They need to understand how dangerous it is. In a few generations perhaps, everyone will have the ability to use Old Magic, and it'll be taught at Hogwarts so there'll be no issue, but until then …"

He sighed again. "Everything is so complicated. Some people hate me and want to kill me, and others want to be just like me and end up almost killing themselves."

"You're right," said Kingsley, who had arrived at the door to the ward when none of them were looking. "Everything _is_ complicated." He moved over to see Percy, and then looked to Merlin, who, for some reason, was frowning. "How can you want to take such drastic action as abolishing the International Statue for Secrecy when even our own society is fighting? How could we find peace with Muggles when we can't find it with ourselves?"

Merlin stared back at him, and Harry was surprised to see a glimmer of anger there. He made no answer, and Kingsley looked away and back to Percy.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said sincerely. "In any case, a death in the Atrium during the demonstrations would have made Verax even more critical of me, and we can't give him any more ammunition now can we?"

Percy smiled weakly, and Mrs Weasley smiled at him, unnecessarily smoothing down his already pristine sheets.

Kingsley nodded. "I must leave," he said apologetically. "I only stopped by to make sure you were alright. The demonstrations are getting rowdier. They seem to have taken the attempt on Merlin's life as a catalyst for more action."

Kingsley looked back at Merlin. "I heard you spoke with Verax," he said. "I urge you to be cautious, Merlin. He is not to be trusted."

Merlin stared back evenly. "It matters not if I trust him," said Merlin. "He is determined to do this, and perhaps we should not dismiss this. You cannot stay blind to the issue. I don't have another thirteen hundred years to wait and see peace. I believe it is time"

He stood up, and swept out of the room then, Fawkes squawking on his shoulder, leaving an awkward silence behind him.

Kingsley sighed. "I only wish it were as simple as he wishes," he said.

"But it can't really be done, can it?" said Hermione. "I mean, when my parents found out about magic, they were okay with it, but only because they'd already suspected something like that about me before. But other Muggles … I don't think they could handle it."

"Perhaps not," said Charlie, glancing at the door Merlin had just left through. "But if Verax and Merlin are anything to go by, there may not be any other choice."

Harry fell silent the rest of the visit as he considered this. Abolishing the International Statute of Secrecy? It seemed a massive step, and all he could think about was the Dursley's neighbour's reactions when they found out magic existed.

It would change everything.

* * *

**A/N: Next update next Sunday!**

**Got a new found policy of trying to respond to every review that I get, which I don't normally do unless there are issues to address or questions to answer. I was informed however that it was rude not to say anything back, even if it's only just 'thanks for reviewing!'. Don't want to come across like I don't appreciate every review I get, so I'll try and respond to everybody, which I'll do on the Sunday before the update, since it's easier to do them all in one go :)**


	3. Conflicting Emotions

**A/N: Sunday update. Hope you all enjoy! **

**Warning: Merlin is stubborn, frustrating and irrational in this chapter, and the next few as well. Prior warning, since editing this chapter made even me want to slap him. Bit like the show itself, right? :)**

* * *

Conflicting Emotions

"What's wrong, Merlin?" Luna asked him, after she performed a perfect Old Magic transfiguration spell on the first go. "That was pretty good, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, it was," said Merlin, belatedly, trying to look more energetic. "It was perfect actually. Well done."

She tilted her head to one side and screwed up her eyes. "There are too many Wrackspurts around you for you to be thinking clearly at the moment, why don't we stop for a while?"

"Yeah, alright," he said, and he leaned back in the couch and sighed. "I'm sorry I'm not more focused. This is your lesson. I shouldn't be bringing my personal troubles into it."

"It's alright," she said, leaning back next to him. They were in the Ravenclaw Common Room, everyone else having long gone to bed. "How is Peter?"

"Percy."

"Yes, him," she said, playing with the cork necklace she always wore. "Is he alright?"

"Yes," Merlin said. It was now two days since the attack at the Ministry. "He should be getting home tomorrow."

"Then what is it that's worrying you?" she asked, turning her orb-like eyes on him in that disconcerting way of hers. "Is it Verax?"

He nodded, staring into the fire in front of him. "The protests are getting bigger," he explained. "It's getting out of hand. More and more people are joining him every day."

"And you want to join him too," she said matter-of-factly.

"I don't know," said Merlin honestly. "I agree with him. Everything he says makes sense. I want to believe in him, but …"

"You don't trust him."

"No," he admitted. "There's something … off, about him. I don't know what. Not to mention the fact that every time his name is even mentioned Fawkes goes insane, and since he's a creature of the Old Religion … that has to mean something. He won't even come places with me anymore, he just stays back at Grimmauld Place."

"So don't support Verax then," she said simply.

"But I have to," he said, feeling his frustration spilling out. "He's the first person to take proper action against the thing I have detested for so long. If he achieves this, then what will it matter if I don't like him? Some things are larger than personal dislike. When I first met Salazar Slytherin he hated me and didn't trust me, but he joined with me to work together to save the school when it was in danger. Verax might be a _distasteful_ person, but if he gets the job done … I don't know what to do," he said finally, hiding his head in his hands.

Luna was quiet for a moment, before inching closer and taking one of his hands in her own, causing him to look up at her. She smiled at him.

"Yes, you do," she said. "You just won't let yourself see it. Trust in your instincts, Merlin. The Old Religion had guided you all this time, why don't you trust it now?"

His gut clenched.

"That's the problem," he admitted, telling her something he had told no one else. "I can't hear it any more. Before, I always could. Little urges, little hints here and there. I still get the feelings I used to get, to guide me away from danger, but I can't _hear_ it any more. I can't listen to it. I don't know what it wants me to do."

"Maybe you can hear it," she said, still smiling. "You just don't know how to _listen_ anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked bitterly. "It's guided me constantly for thirteen centuries. Why should it change now?"

"Because you've changed," she said, squeezing his hand softly. "You're not the same man you were. The Old Religion is telling you what you want to know, you just need to learn to listen once again. You need to _want_ to hear it."

"Well I'm sick of it," said Merlin. "This is what I want to do. This is what I need to do."

"Your destiny was fulfilled, Merlin," she said. "Don't go creating another."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "This is still my destiny. I have to restore what was. Old Magic and the peace that went along with it. My task is only half-completed."

Luna frowned, and looked away from him, shaking her head softly.

"Why can't you _see_ it, Merlin?" she asked, sighing. "It's so simple."

"Well, maybe it's because I don't have _Nargles_ or something else guiding me," he snapped, and stood up to pace around the room.

She blinked, but didn't look upset, just concerned.

"This isn't you, Merlin," she said softly. "I know it."

"And how do you?" he asked, though immediately having regretted his snappy comment. "I don't even know who I myself am anymore."

"Then you need to find yourself again," she said. "The world will never be at peace unless you're at peace with yourself. You don't need to create new problems, Merlin. Just enjoy the peace of your mortality."

"And how can I?" he asked. "I need to see peace restored. What use will it be if it happens a hundred years from now? How can I help then?"

"Maybe you won't need to help," she said. "You're doing this because _you_ want to see it all again, Merlin. Perhaps you're just not seeing that the world just isn't ready."

Merlin turned away from her, unnerved by her wide innocent eyes. He couldn't believe that. He had to complete this task; he couldn't leave the job half-done. It wasn't for his own benefit, it was for everyone's.

He found himself standing in front of the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. His eyes drifted upwards to her face, and lingered there for the longest time. It wasn't the greatest likeness in the world. True, it caught the shape of her face perfectly, the often haughty looking expression she usually wore, but the eyes were expressionless. They didn't have that intelligent glint they would have every time Rowena would discover something new, or give some sort of witty retort to one of Godric's idiotic statements, or flash the way they did every time she teased him. They weren't as sad and full of hidden emotion as Rowena's had been.

This statue and this Common Room had always been difficult for him to see, hence why he had only been in Ravenclaw twice over the years. Being here, in the room that used to be Rowena's personal quarters, with her face looking down at him, it had always brought up too many memories. She and the other Founders had been the only people he had ever grown close to since Camelot, she perhaps more than the others, and then, he had had to leave them, leave _her_. It had been one of the most difficult days of his life walking out of the castle that morning, only eclipsed by the day that Arthur had died.

The Founders had always wanted peace between Muggles and wizards. It had been their dream, all four of them equally united in this. They had known it would take a long time, and Merlin himself had told them that their school wasn't for nothing even if it didn't yield immediate results, because someone had to start the process. He had known then that a time of peace would come, no matter how far in the future. Well, it had been a thousand years since then, surely the time was nigh? He had been so confident back then, why was he now so determined that it should happen in his lifetime and not in another hundred or thousand years?

Luna came and stood beside him, looking up at the statue as well.

"What was she like?" she asked.

Merlin gulped, flooded with memories, some extremely painful. "A very determined young woman," he said softly. "Nothing was beyond her reach, except her own capacity to recognise her weaknesses."

"And she wanted peace between Muggles and wizards?"

"Yes," he said. "She even entered an arranged marriage with a Muggle to try and create peace between their warring clans."

"Did it work?"

"No," he said. "He died in battle and the Muggles turned against her. She barely escaped with her life. They would have killed her and her unborn child for what they were."

"The Muggle was the Grey Lady's father?" she asked, frowning. "I thought you were."

Merlin laughed softly, though not amused at the recollection of that ancient (and untrue) rumour that still seemed to persist one thousand years later. "That was a silly rumour that got passed around the castle back then. You know what the students here are like. Helena's always teasing me about it. I don't think she really believes me when I say it's not true."

"But the rumours weren't unfounded were they?" Luna asked, fixing him with that stare of hers. "You and Ravenclaw were close."

"Yes," he said, uncomfortable now with her standing so close and staring at him like that. "I was close to them all."

"They built the castle so people would have a better future," said Luna, not believing his ruse for a moment. "It didn't matter that it would take time for it to happen, they knew it would eventually. They laid the groundwork for the peace that'll come. That's what you've done. You've laid the foundations. Other people can build on that. It doesn't have to be you."

Merlin shook his head. "That's where you're wrong," he said softly, still looking up at Rowena's face. "It does. It always does."

* * *

"There were five hundred people at the Ministry today," said Remus, looking across the table at Merlin. "They were demanding to see you."

"It's best I stay here," Merlin said. "My presence might … antagonise things."

"I doubt anything you could do would rile them up any more," said Tonks, who was currently trying to force-feed Teddy, who kept spitting everything back out, back in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place "They're getting pretty insane."

"Verax is nuts," said Fred. "It's like he's some sort of saint or something, the way they fawn over him."

Merlin looked down at the newspaper before him, seeing the usual headlines. The paper for the last week had been filled with nothing but the protests, with several pages dedicated to long editorials arguing about the matter.

"Is Kingsley doing anything about it," Merlin asked, trying to sound casual, but knowing he was failing miserably. Remus noticed.

"He's been forced to," said Remus, "or he risks losing his job. He's sent an owl to the International Confederation of Wizards, and they're going to bring up the subject at their next Convention."

"That isn't for another six months," said Merlin. "And even then, I doubt they'll do anything."

"True," said Tonks, abandoning her attempt s to get Teddy to eat his food rather than play with it. "International governments are still asking questions about you. They're accusing you of withholding Old Magic deliberately."

Merlin groaned. "It's not my fault I live here!" he said. "How can I teach several dozen countries at once? This is where the Old Religion is strongest, always has been. Most of the countries sending Kingsley owls _never_ had the ability to use Old Magic. Yes, the Old Religion was present there, and still is, but they were never actually able to use it, until now. There are people here in _this_ country hating me for not teaching them fast enough and landing them in comas, how am I supposed to compete internationally?"

"Not to mention the fact that people are questioning your identity again," said Remus, nodding to another, though smaller article in the paper: _Merlin: Emrys, or elaborate hoax? _Some people now believed that if Merlin wouldn't teach them, it meant he wasn't the real Merlin, and was just taking advantage of the return of the Old Religion to paint himself in the guise of a great historical figure. It seemed there was no winning with these people.

"You're in a pickle, mate," said Fred, looking through some order-forms. "We can't even go into our own shop without being mobbed by people asking questions about you."

"Likewise," said Tonks, trying once more to get Teddy to open his mouth. "It's kind of hard for me to go undercover with my face on a Chocolate Frog card, even if I am a Metamorphagus. Oh, I give up!" she cried, throwing down the little spoon and glaring at her infant son. "You don't want to eat? Then starve!"

"Dora," said Remus. "What did we say about threatening the baby?"

"He's too stubborn!" complained Tonks, staring him down. "He's got a mind of his own."

"Like his mother then."

"Watch it." She turned around and threw the spoon towards Draco. "Right, your turn. And please, _teach_ me how you do it."

Draco managed a small smile, and moved towards Teddy. He dipped the spoon into the baby food and held it out to Teddy, who immediately opened his mouth to take it. Tonk's jaw dropped in mixed shock and frustration.

"How do you _do_ that?" she asked, for what seemed like the fiftieth time. "I'm his _mother_, you're just his second cousin. Why does he do it for you and not me?"

"Maybe because Draco doesn't threaten him with starvation?" Remus said idly, flicking through the newspaper. "He's perfectly okay whenever _I_ feed him."

Tonks glared once at her husband, and then watched with intense concentration as Draco fed Teddy the last of his meal before sitting himself down at the table again. Draco and Teddy's relationship was certainly a bit of an odd one. Draco seemed to like being around him, and Teddy was the same, for whatever reason. At first, Draco had been awkward around him, not knowing what to do, but that stage had long since passed, and Merlin sometimes thought Draco preferred being with Teddy than he did with anyone else. It was beyond anything Merlin could understand. Usually, seeing Teddy smiling like that would bring a smile to Draco's face as well, but today, nothing. He was far too preoccupied with something else. Merlin got the feeling Draco spent so much time with Teddy because he was deliberately trying to avoid his old family by replacing it with its newest member. It was like the fresh start he'd wanted with everyone in the Order; Teddy had no idea what Draco had done in the past, and he didn't care. That was a rarity in itself.

"Concentrating?" Merlin asked him, seeing Draco staring into space. "It's your move."

Draco jumped and focused back on the chess game he and George were playing on opposite ends of the table. He searched the board for a moment.

"_Fleogan,_" he said finally, and his eyes flashed. A bishop rose into the air (screaming and protesting profusely) and was moved three diagonal squares to the right to capture one of George's knights. Draco levitated the two of them off the board, then offered a satisfied smirk to George. "Beat that, Weasley."

"Certainly," said George, and a second later, his own eyes had flashed golden. A rook lifted into the air and went straight along a horizontal route to take Draco's queen which had been left unguarded by the movement of his bishop. The rook now had a direct route to Draco's king, which was hemmed in by several of George's other pieces. "Checkmate, Malfoy."

Draco scowled, and leaned back, folding his arms. George just chuckled. "Sore loser, Draco? What's gotten into you? Normally you would've noticed something like that a long time ago."

"Well, I didn't," mumbled Draco, looking away from the board.

Remus and Tonks left soon after to head home, and Fred and George, Merlin and Draco moved to the drawing room, where Merlin continued their lessons in Old Magic.

"When can I learn something useful?" Draco asked, after about an hour. "What use is levitating chess pieces going to do me?"

"It's good practice of control," said Merlin. "And you have to learn control before anything else unless you want to end up like those people in St. Mungo's." With all the latest anger at Merlin's concealment of Old Magic, even more people had resorted to trying it on their own, failing miserably.

Draco just sulked, which was unusual behaviour for him lately, and didn't say another word until the lesson was over and Fred and George had gone to bed. He sat across from Merlin in the drawing room. His eyes were deliberately avoiding the Black family tapestry.

"You can go and see him, Draco," said Merlin softly, starling the boy out of his thoughts. "You don't have to prove yourself like this to your father. Old Magic doesn't make you superior, you don't have to be so desperate to show off to him. He wants to see _you_. And reliving the glory of your Druid ancestors is entirely pointless; everyone in the Order knows that you've changed. Anyone else that doesn't understand that just isn't worth knowing."

"I can't go and see him," said Draco. "He ruined my life. He's a Death Eater. He joined because he _wanted _to, not because he had no other choice. And my mother, she supported him. She was a part of it too. I want a fresh start, Merlin. I don't want to go back to them."

"You can't cut off all ties to your previous life, Draco," said Merlin. "Some things will come back to haunt you."

"Like you and Camelot?" Draco asked, looking at him.

"Yes," said Merlin after a moment, looking down at the _Daily Prophet _once more. "Like me and Camelot."

* * *

The DA lesson was going well, Harry thought, as he wandered through the room, brilliantly in fact. The DA had now turned to Patronuses, and the room was filled with the silvery vapours of half-formed animals, like the room was glistening with snow and ice. Everywhere were faces of intense concentration, and even very youngest could produce something, a silvery mist, with the eldest creating entire creatures that cantered, hopped, glided or slithered around the room. Even the sight of a Patronus made everyone happy.

And Harry was no exception.

He had found new appreciation for the spell after Merlin had told him some of its history. It had evolved from the Old Religion, and was one of the few modern spells that contained a trace of the ancient magic, hence why it was so powerful, and why Harry had always been so proficient at it. It truly was an incredible spell, and Harry found himself inundated with countless requests to demonstrate it for the younger pupils who were still unable to manage a corporeal form.

"That's amazing!" one second year cried, as the silvery stag galloped past her, and Harry grinned to see it himself, finally rejoicing in the purity of the Old Religion in even this comparatively weak Modern spell. His grin grew even wider when he noticed a horse Patronus galloping alongside it. Ginny stood on the other side of the room and winked when he caught her eye. His Patronus grew even brighter.

He didn't even mind using a wand for this spell. Ever since the Old Religion had returned and Harry had found the ability to use magic without a wand, using one had seemed like such a restriction; like being a competitor in a three-legged race, it seemed to slow him down. He now understood what Merlin had meant all along by hating his wand. Old Magic was flowing and natural, Modern Magic had to be forced from a strip of wood. But the Patronus Charm required a wand, and the phoenix feather wand was more than happy to oblige him for this one spell.

"I'm sure there must be a way for you to use a Patronus Charm without a wand," said Hermione beside him, accurately guessing his thoughts. "I'm sure if I-"

"Merlin's been trying to do the same thing for a thousand years," Harry reminded her. "He hasn't found one. But it doesn't matter anyway. This is one Modern spell I can live with."

Lessons at Hogwarts had been difficult the last few months, as Harry was itching to just cast his wand away and learn solely Old Magic, but Hermione refused to let him ("You are not going to waste all those years learning wand magic by throwing it away just a few months before the end of your final year!") so he continued learning. He supposed she was right; it was probably good to be versed in both forms of magic.

The DA lesson continued with success, and everyone left very happy indeed. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna were just clearing up the mess of cushions and usual host of lost and forgotten objects when the door burst open once more. Harry turned, expecting to find the owner of the Decoy Detonator he had just found, and was astonished to find Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway, her face grim.

"Professor," he began, immediately on edge. Although she whole-heartedly supported the DA, she _never_ came to the Room of Requirement. "We were just-"

"No time, Potter," she said, coming in hurriedly and closing the door behind her. She turned to face them all, her face serious in a way it hadn't been since Voldemort and Morgana's deaths. "I must speak to you all."

"What is it, professor?" Hermione asked.

McGonagall hesitated for a moment. "I've just received a message from Kingsley," she said. "I suppose you've all heard of Verax and his Liberators? Apparently, they've just exposed themselves and their magic in the middle of a crowded Muggle park."

"You're joking!" said Ron, mouth hanging open. "Have they lost it?"

"Perhaps they have, Mr Weasley," said McGonagall, her mouth thin. "Kingsley and the entire Ministry are working on damage control at the moment, but it's estimated perhaps two hundred people saw the magic. There hasn't been such a large breach of the Statute since its inception."

"What can we do?" asked Harry, feeling a clenching feeling in his gut.

"Nothing," said McGonagall. "Leave it to the Obliviators, they're best equipped to deal with this. But Kingsley's called an Order meeting at Grimmauld Place immediately. You'd best come."

And so Harry followed McGonagall through the corridors to her office, where, one by one, they stepped into the fireplace and were whisked off to Grimmauld Place. His mind was racing. What would happen if this couldn't be covered up?

They began to gather in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, where Merlin, Malfoy, Remus, Tonks and Fred and George were already waiting. The kitchen slowly began to fill up with Order members, all of them in a panic. Harry kept his eyes on Merlin. He sat there, face expressionless, arms folded over his chest, not speaking to anyone. What was he thinking? Was he pleased, or angry? Fawkes sat on his shoulder, head bowed as though in mourning.

After about an hour, Kingsley himself walked in, his face looking more haggard than Harry had yet seen it. He settled himself at the table, and was immediately barraged with questions. He held up a hand to stop them.

"Before you all deafen me, let me answer at least a few of your questions before you ask them. The Obliviators are still working, though their task has become more difficult owing to many of the Muggles who saw the magic already having called friends and family about the incident, and many others they cannot trace. It is a task of monumental proportions. We've never had a breach this serious, and worse, never one that was intentional."

"What was Verax thinking?" demanded Remus. "Surely he can't have thought this was a good idea?"

"I had him arrested," said Kingsley. "But he claims to have known nothing of the plan, that these witches and wizards acted independently. And until we find some evidence connecting him to these activists, we cannot hold him."

"Surely the fact that they were Liberators is enough?" asked Fred. "He probably told them all to do something like that in one of his speeches."

"Nevertheless, it is not enough to charge him for it," said Kingsley. "The culprits themselves have been caught, and they themselves claim to have acted independently."

Ron snorted. "Yeah right," he said. "Like they would have done anything without him riling them up."

"What exactly happened?" Hermione asked.

"There was a concert on in a park in London," Kingsley explained. "The Liberators Apparated on stage, made the performers vanish, turned all their instruments into pigs and then flew on their broomsticks around the whole crowd. Fortunately, there was a wizard there with his Muggle wife, and Stunned the four of them before they could do anything worse. We're hoping that the ones who don't manage to get Obliviated will just go away hoping it was all part of the act. But some of them caught the whole thing on their- what do you call them- _video cameras._ They could be submitting it to the Muggle media right now."

There was a collective groan at the table. Kingsley ran a hand over his head.

"I don't know why they did this," he said wearily. "I was negotiating with Verax. We'd sent the owl to the International Confederation of Wizards. What could they gain by doing this? It only makes the whole thing worse."

"They're probably impatient," said Charlie. "The next meeting isn't for six months. And even if they were to host an emergency meeting tomorrow, nothing would get done for ages, perhaps years. Every signatory country has to agree to repeal the Statute, and you can bet most of them won't agree. Especially the countries where people still believe in witchcraft and kill people for it. It might even take decades. They won't be willing to wait that long."

"Yeah," agreed Bill. "The Statute isn't just any old law. It's an international thing that's so deeply embedded into our culture that dismantling it is just not feasible in a short space of time. Not to mention the fact that Muggle leaders have to agree as well. I can't see that happening. They won't want to admit to their people that they've been allowing a whole secret population to live in their countries without telling anybody."

"What's our Muggle Prime Minister like?" Tonks asked. "How does he see all this?"

"I told him about all of this as soon as it happened," Kingsley said. "He sent out policemen to cordon off the park and not let anyone leave until one of our Obliviators had seen them. Gave the excuse of a terrorist threat or something. Of course, many made it out before they could be mobilised, and all the policemen will have to be Obliviated as well, along with all the journalists and reporters that turned up to see what all the fuss was about. He was angry about that, blaming me for not controlling them properly. He doesn't want the Statute to end. There's an election in a few days time. He won't want to jeapordise his position. And if he's ousted, which he probably will be judging by the opinion polls, who's to say the next PM will be any more understanding? He may be even worse. The Liberators have chosen the wrong time for all of this."

"Or maybe they chose the right time," said McGonagall. "They want an aura of uncertainty. Maybe they think they'll be able to sway whoever gets elected next?"

There was an ominous silence after this, broken only by Teddy, who was gurgling in his high chair in the corner.

"Maybe we shouldn't try and cover this up," said Merlin suddenly, causing everyone to jump and stare at him. Harry stared, he didn't seriously think they could salvage this, did he?

"I know you want this to happen," said Kingsley, looking wary, "but surely you see that this is not the right way to go about it?"

"No, I don't," said Merlin. "Maybe deliberately exposing themselves in this way was a bad idea, but why not take advantage of the opportunity it gives us?"

"Opportunity?" asked Ron incredulously. "You think this is a good thing?"

"Obviously, exposing themselves in public was hardly the right thing to do," said Merlin. "But instead of trying to cover it up, take this opportunity to explain to the Muggles the truth of the situation. Whoever becomes the next Prime Minister, instead of visiting him or her and telling them to keep our secret, work with them to find a way to tell the Muggles the truth."

"You think they'll want to spend their first few days in office telling people about witches and wizards?" Hermione asked. "They'll be far more concerned with getting into their new role, selecting their Cabinet members and things like that. Starting their first term with telling the public the truth wouldn't appeal to them."

"We should try," insisted Merlin, and Harry saw a familiar gleam in his eye that signaled passion, though his face and body were still carefully controlled. "They might like the idea of telling them from the beginning, so the people don't turn around and accuse them of lying to them in several years time. It should at least be up for discussion."

"I am not going to give in to these people," said Kingsley. "They won't be taught that they can do whatever they like and get away with it. I won't endorse this. If the Statute is to be repealed, which I am still doubtful about, it should be done through the proper channels, not through terrorism, which is more or less what this is."

Everyone was now staring at Merlin, seeing how he would react to this. He still looked fairly calm, though his fists were clenched.

"Are you comparing the Liberators to Death Eaters now?" Merlin asked.

"Of course not," said Kingsley. "But actions such as this can benefit nobody. They're trying to gain publicity, and I'm not sure whether it is good publicity or bad. They've proven themselves to be willing to be martyrs, and I shall be proving myself to be a stubborn old tyrant for not listening to them. Is that the sort of people you'd ally with?"

"I don't agree with their tactics," said Merlin, his voice rising slightly. "And of course I don't believe you should give in. But just _consider_-"

"I will not," said Kingsley, his voice firm. "This shall be done through the proper channels or not at all. We have years of debate ahead of us yet, plenty of time to make our opinions heard. We should make no rash decisions because of a few extremists. We must keep our wits about us."

For the first time, Merlin looked angry, but he soon controlled himself again. He looked down at the table in front of him, breathing heavily.

"Tell me," he said, voice carefully restrained. "Have any of you, aside from the Muggle-Borns, have any of you actually spoken to a Muggle? Had a conversation with one? Had a Muggle friend?"

"That's not the issue here-" said Kingsley, but Merlin cut across him.

"Yes, it is," said Merlin. "We have been separate for too long. We no longer see Muggles as friends, we no longer see them as fellow human beings with minds of their own. They're just sheep to us now, sheep that have to be controlled and fenced in. We're patronising to them, even you sometimes Mr Weasley. Admiring the way they get by without magic as though they're dogs who've learned how to fetch a newspaper."

"The only way to end all the hate and fear of Muggles that exists in our world, is for them to join us," he said, slowly. "We need to end the separation. It only leads to feelings of superiority over them."

"Then what we need to do is change our perceptions of them," said Mr Weasley, who looked a little put out at what Merlin had said. "Put more effort into Muggle Studies for children and adults. We can't join them if we see them like children, you're right. I don't think our society is ready for it any more than theirs is. There are plenty of people who'd love to join the Muggles just so they could control them."

"We're not ready," said Remus. "Imagine the chaos it would create!"

"It was done in Camelot, and it worked, despite the initial 'chaos'."

"Don't compare the two," said Kingsley. "This isn't Camelot. You can't recreate it, it won't work. Camelot's sorcerers had not been in hiding as long as we have. People then still believed in magic, it wasn't such a shock to them. And the only reason it worked back then was because you were friends with the Muggle King. I have no such relationship with the Muggle Prime Minister, nor any of the other party leaders. They won't trust me the way Arthur did you."

"I thought you'd resolved all this, Merlin," said Luna, speaking for the first time. "I thought you'd realised that you couldn't live in the past any more?"

Merlin ignored her, and instead kept looking at the table.

"When the International Statute of Secrecy was signed," he began. "The original signatories all gathered around the table and swore to forever conceal their people from their Muggle counterparts. But, before they put pen to paper, they all said this: "May peace come one day to Muggles and wizardkind both, that this Statute may be nullified. Let not this day be known as a day of oppression. In time, let our two races combine as one once more. May we never forget our Muggle kin.' The Statue was never intended to be permanent."

Everyone was silent for a moment. "I've never read that before," said Hermione, frowning slightly. "It isn't written anywhere."

"I don't suppose it would be," said Merlin. "People like to forget that part. The part where they all hoped that the future need not be so bleak."

"How do you know they said that?" Malfoy asked, and he too was frowning. "One of my mother's ancestors signed the Statute, and I've certainly never heard that part of the story."

"I was there," Merlin said, and his voice was so quiet everyone was silent. "I sneaked in. The conference was held in London, in the Atrium of the old Ministry headquarters. I disguised myself as a servant and sneaked in so that I could watch. I had to be there, no matter how much pain I felt. The moment it happened was like a solid punch to my gut, but I couldn't leave. I had to be there to witness the death of everything that I believed in."

Everyone was silent once more.

"I had no idea," said Kingsley, and he looked slightly troubled. "But it cannot change the present, Merlin. No matter the original intentions, the world is different now. It's larger, Muggles and wizards are different. It isn't as simple as you wish to believe."

Merlin stared at Kingsley for several moments. "Nor is it as difficult as you wish it to be," he said, and stood up and left the room without another word.

Kingsley sighed, and buried his head in his hands, as everyone else broke out in hurried whispers. Harry couldn't help but stare at the door Merlin had just left through.

Was he doing this for the right reasons? Harry was still conflicted himself as to what to believe. Merlin was right, witches and wizards were far too ignorant of Muggles, and far too condescending, but at the same time, such a radical step so quickly was surely madness. Was Merlin just so focused on restoring the past that he was unable to see the consequences?

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Ginny asked from his side.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think anyone can understand just what this means to him."

Ginny nodded and looked concerned. "After all that trouble last year getting him to stop blaming himself for everything that went wrong in Camelot, it looks like it might all have been for nothing. He might have gotten over Arthur's death, but he still blames himself for the hostility between Muggles and wizards. I don't think he'll ever forget that."

"No," said Harry. "I don't think he will."

* * *

Merlin felt himself shaking with suppressed anger and frustration as he headed up the stairs to his room. Why had they done that? Why? Just when he'd become involved in their cause.

He sank down in his bed and closed his eyes, images of screaming Muggles, burning pyres and scared wizards running through his mind in a continuous cycle. This _was_ the right thing. It had to be.

He had been the one to restore peace thirteen hundred years ago, and he knew he was the only one who could do it again.

* * *

**A/N: Update same time next week!**


	4. Letter from the Past

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews! Sorry about the lack of a Sunday update. It's exam season, and I'm losing track of it all. There will (probably) be an update this coming Sunday (if not, it'll be during the week once I get a moment), but definitely not the following Sunday since I have an exam the next day. I'll compensate with a double update the following week.**

**Also, there are references in this chapter to events that took place in the prequel. Hopefully I've written it in such a way to explain things for those who haven't read it. If not, just let me know :)**

* * *

Letter from the Past

Harry's hopes for the Gryffindor Quidditch team in the final match of the season against Hufflepuff for the Cup in a few weeks time were high. He sat astride his broom several feet higher than his team mates, watching their progress like a hawk. Ginny and the other Chasers were flawless as ever, the two Beaters were in top form and even Ron was starting to forget all his nerves and was playing excellently. He hoped this good form would last until the match. As it was, they appeared unbeatable.

He called an end to the practice, and set down on the ground, dismissing his team in a cheerful mood. Everyone except Ron and Ginny hurried off to get changed. Ron was still holding the Quaffle and was looking at it thoughtfully.

"You know, Harry," he said. "I think Old Magic has helped me in Quidditch. I can, I dunno, sort of _see_ where the Quaffle is going to be before it gets there."

"It's the instincts," Harry said, putting the Quaffle and Snitch back in the case. "Old Magic improves them, and the return of the Old Religion means that anyone who tries will be able to improve their own instincts and awareness."

"You know, we might as well just go the whole hog and use Old Magic to win-"

"Don't you dare, Ron," growled Ginny. "We're going to win fair and square, or not at all. We're not going to cheat."

"It's not really cheating," complained Ron. "Only _wands_ are forbidden, not magic itself. That's what Merlin said when he played for us-"

"And Merlin's just as bad as you are," said Ginny. "I can easily see why King Arthur had him put in the stocks all the time. And anyway, when he did it, no one really knew about Old Magic. Now everyone will be able to tell when you're using it. McGonagall will at least, and you can bet she won't be pleased if she catches you."

"Fine," huffed Ron. "It was only an idea."

"We're doing great, Ron," said Harry, turning his eye towards the Bludgers. "We don't need to cheat. As long as you keep control of your nerves, we can't lose."

"But it's our last ever game of Quidditch at Hogwarts," said Ron. "I _really_ don't want to lose."

"We won't," reassured Ginny. She too turned to the Bludgers. "Need a hand getting them in?"

"No, I think I've got a way to do it," said Harry thoughtfully. He held out his hand towards them. "_B__etræppan_!" he cried, and he felt the now familiar sensation of his eyes burning gold.

Immediately, the two Bludgers came zooming towards them full speed.

"Whoa!" cried Harry. "S_lāw__!_"

Immediately, they stopped, now inching towards the three of them as though caught in toffee. When they got close enough, Harry just reached out and grabbed them, locking them safely in the case. Ron was clutching his heart.

"Blimey, Harry! We nearly got our heads smashed in then!"

"Sorry," said Harry. "It's a new thing I'm learning with Merlin, using Old Magic on objects that have been enchanted with Modern Magic. It's actually really hard. You have to get the balance exactly right. Too much and you'll double the power they have, too little and you won't be able to counteract the existing charms-"

"You sound like Hermione," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Speaking of which, I need to get her to help me do my Potions homework."

"Help?" asked Ginny as they moved towards the changing rooms. "You sure you don't mean get her to _do_ your Potions homework?"

"What do you take me for, Ginny?"

"Just a boy who tried to cheat in Quidditch."

"Point taken," grumbled Ron.

After a quick change, the three of them began to head back up to the castle, strolling pleasantly in the warm, lazy evening air. Ginny walked with Harry, and stretched her hand out to hold his. Ron looked away pointedly, but Ginny just laughed and sidled up closer to Harry, which he was only too happy about.

Although not exactly thrilled, Ron had more or less accepted their relationship, or at least, no longer scowled at open displays of affection. Harry for his part was just elated that he and Ginny could finally be together without the cloud of Voldemort hanging over them. This was what it should have been all along. He had to make up for the year and a half they had lost.

They walked in through the open front doors to find a whole host of people in the Entrance Hall, rather unusually. They turned to head up the marble staircase when suddenly the noise from the people gathered got even louder

Several people were clutching copies of the _Evening Prophet_, and some people were now looking angrily at Harry and the others.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, staring defiantly at them all.

"Is it true that _Merlin_ is just an imposter?" one of the apparent ringleaders asked, glaring at Ginny.

"Of course it isn't!" she objected. "What sort of question is that?"

The boy shook his paper at her. "There's plenty of folk who think he's just faking it. Maybe it's true. The Ministers of Magic in France, Spain and Brazil have all said they don't believe him."

"Then they're idiots," said Ron. "It's obvious he's Merlin. The Old Magic-"

"Yeah, _Old Magic," _said the boy. "How come he's so picky about who he teaches it to? What right does he have to stop everyone learning it if they want to?"

"Because it's dangerous," said Harry, his dislike of the boy increasing. "People can end up really hurt by using it."

"Then why's he not teaching it to them?" the boy demanded, and several others nodded in agreement. "He only teaches the people _he_ wants to. He's turning folk away that want to learn it."

"Not everyone is able to use it," said Harry. "He can't teach people if they can't do it."

"Yeah and that's suspicious too," the boy said. "How come not everyone's got it? He's behind this."

"Are you thick?" Ron asked him. "It's nothing to do with Merlin who has Old Magic and who doesn't. He teaches the people that can use it, if he can trust them not to do something stupid with it."

"Who's he to decide that?"

"He's _Merlin_," said Ginny, stepping closer to the boy. "You have no idea how powerful this magic is, especially in the wrong hands. He knows how to use it, the only one in the world who can comprehend it. He has to be careful about who he teaches it to."

"Truth is, he just wants to teach it to his friends," said the boy, glaring at Ginny. "He doesn't care about the rest of us. Look at all this trouble he's caused with Verax. They're going to expose us all to the Muggles. And it's his fault."

Angry shouts rang out in the hall and some people even drew their wands.

"Don't blame Merlin!"

"What's wrong with telling the Muggles?"

"He's mad!"

"He's a fake!"

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Just a few months ago, everyone here had been at the feast after Voldemort's death, all of them had celebrated, all had crowded around Merlin clamouring for autographs. How could they all turn against him so quickly?

"Lucian!"

Ernie MacMillan had emerged from the crowd and was frowning at the boy who had caused all the trouble. "What's going on here?"

Lucian glared at Ernie. "You're one of those DA aren't you? You believe 'Merlin's' the real deal then?"

"Of course I do," said Ernie. "The evidence is indisputable."

Lucian sneered. "And what about revealing us all to the Muggles, you believe that's a good idea as well?"

At this, Ernie hesitated, and Lucian nodded in satisfaction.

"You see? He can't even convince his own followers! He's completely mad! He isn't the real Merlin!"

"Look!" Ernie said, squaring up to Lucian, his hands on his hips. "He _is _the real Merlin. And you couldn't hope to be half the man he is, Lucian. Now, all of you, go back to your common rooms right now."

"What right have you to-"

"I'm Head Boy," said Ernie, puffing up his chest. "And if you don't all leave within the next ten seconds, I'm reporting each and every one of you to Professor McGonagall."

Reluctantly, Lucian, and everyone else began to disperse, many shooting glares at Ernie and Harry. As soon as the last of them had trailed away, Ernie turned to them.

"Really, Harry. Causing trouble like that in the Entrance Hall? I know you're my friend but-"

"It wasn't us!" protested Ron. "They're the ones that caused it. We were just passing through."

Ernie nodded, and looked towards the entrance to the passageway that led to the Hufflepuff Common Room and sighed. "I know. Lucian's been sounding off about it for several days now in the Common Room. Apparently his uncle was one of the ones Merlin turned away, and he's not happy about it. But the man spent time in Azkaban for attacking a Muggle, completely unrepentant. You can see why Merlin refused to teach him."

"Is it really getting that bad in the school?" Harry asked. "People are actually doubting Merlin's the real deal?"

"Yes," said Ernie gravely. "And all these issues with Verax aren't helping either."

"How can we hope to get on with Muggles if we can't get on with each other?" Ginny asked darkly.

* * *

_Outrage at treatment of Muggles_

_Cruel and callous were the words used yesterday to describe the measures used against the Muggles who witnessed the Liberator's demonstration in a London park on Tuesday. Over four hundred Muggles were Obliviated in what was called the largest operation ever conducted by the Ministry of Magic. Cicero Verax called such a number 'shocking in the extreme'._

_The Muggles, many of whom were as young as four, were tracked down and Obliviated, some so poorly in the rush to finish quickly, that they've been left addled and confused. The Obliviators say the effect is temporary, but Verax claims that this is beside the point._

"_What right to we have to mess with these people's minds? We are not their masters. We have no right to treat them in such a way. Would you like your four-year-old child to be seized by a stranger and violated like that? Who knows what harm it could do to such a young mind?"_

_There were many reports of terrified Muggles fleeing the streets surrounding the park as they realised their loved ones had become sluggish and confused by the spells so indiscriminately cast. Several had to be Stunned in a shocking display of cowardice by Ministry officials._

_Minister Shacklebolt, however, claims this was all in the Muggle's best interests. "What we need to remember is that the Liberators are the ones to blame here. Such a radical step by them on unsuspecting Muggles could have been severely damaging to Muggle society. They forced us to act. It is regrettable, but was necessary to ensure continued peace."_

_But Verax and his supporters refuse to back down, and state that they will not cease in their efforts to ensure a fairer and more equal society for all, and plan to continue their demonstrations at the Ministry for the foreseeable future._

Merlin threw aside the paper. "I take it then the editor of the _Daily Prophet _has now joined the Liberators?"

Kingsley's grimace was all he needed in confirmation. Merlin nodded.

"This won't help things at all," he said. "Verax is stirring things up in the wrong way."

"I thought you supported him?"

"Not like this," Merlin said, ignoring the jibe. "I despise secrecy and corruption in all forms. If this is to be done, it needs to be done openly. Not through propaganda and bribes."

The two of them were sitting in Kingsley's office at the Ministry. Merlin had just finished his second lot of Old Magic lessons for the day, and was about to head home. Kingsley was looking through a long list of correspondence.

"We can add Bulgaria, Russia and Mexico to the countries you can no longer visit," Kingsley sighed, casting aside some letters. "They've all joined Spain, France and Brazil in denouncing you as an imposter. Before all this Liberator business started, they were annoyed at you for not teaching them Old Magic, but they haven't openly opposed you until now. They think your support of these Liberators proves you're an imposter, and that your real motivation is control over Muggles."

"That's ridiculous," said Merlin. "I don't want to _control_ Muggles!"

"Many people think you do," said Kingsley. "Several Pure-Blood families have joined Verax; they think you'll be able to control them the way you did in Camelot."

"I didn't control Muggles in Camelot!" Merlin said. "We worked _together-_"

"That's not the way they see it," said Kingsley. "They believe you ruled over them."

Merlin pushed back the indignation he felt, and sighed. "That's what the Wizards' Council used to believe," he said, referring to the Ministry's predecessor. "They worshipped me because they believed I had controlled Muggles. They didn't know the real story."

"Verax' followers are slowly becoming as biased as the Wizards' Council was," said Kingsley, looking at him hard. "Their visions of reality are becoming warped in this new craze."

"Not all," said Merlin, avoiding looking at him. "There are many of us doing this for the right reasons."

"But Verax is not one of them," said Kingsley, his voice stronger now. "Can't you see that?"

"All I see is a man determined to end the secrecy and lies between our two peoples," said Merlin. "He may be a bit of a slimy character, but he's come further than anybody else has. I believe his intentions are true."

"Really?" Kingsley asked, eyeing him intensely. "Are you sure it isn't because you merely wish it to be so?"

"Give me some credit," Merlin said, annoyed. "I'm not foolish enough to place trust where it is not deserved."

"Are you sure?" said Kingsley. "Many people would place their trust blindly without a second thought if they were desperate enough."

"I'm not a child."

"You're acting like one," said Kingsley, raising his voice now. "Why must you be so stubborn? "

Merlin looked away angrily. He couldn't listen to this. No matter what Verax' followers had done, or what they believed, this was the opportunity he knew he had been waiting for. Old Magic had returned, and that meant peace must come with it.

He turned his head slightly, expecting to see Fawkes perched there, and remembered with a jolt that Fawkes rarely came anywhere with him anymore; all mention of Verax made him anxious. His shoulder felt empty without him.

Merlin felt his insides writhing in discomfort. Fawkes was his companion now, his guide, he should trust his judgment, shouldn't he? He felt so lonely all of a sudden. He looked for that feeling deep inside of him, the Old Religion guiding him as it had always done, but yet again, found only silence. Why did it no longer speak to him?

_Please, please guide me. I don't know what to do._

"What's this meeting been called for?" Ron asked, as he, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna and Professor McGonagall walked into the kitchen to find Malfoy sitting alone at the table. Malfoy merely shrugged.

"No idea," he said, avoiding looking at Ron.

"Where's Merlin?"

"No idea."

"Talkative today, aren't you?" asked Ginny as she sat at the table. "All alone are we?"

Malfoy ignored her. Harry noticed that he looked unwell again, and frowned. Ever since Voldemort and Morgana's defeat, he'd been happy, well, at least as happy at Malfoy could look. Something was bothering him. Harry would have bet all the Chocolate Frogs in the world that it was about his father.

In amongst the countless reports of Verax and Liberators, the _Daily Prophet_, had managed to sneak in a few lines about Lucius Malfoy, and the beginning of his term in Azkaban. Harry wondered vaguely whether Malfoy had been to see his father. Was that the cause of his melancholy?

They didn't have to wait long as the kitchen slowly filled up. Last to enter were Kingsley and Merlin, both looked unusually tense.

"What happened?" asked Mrs Weasley as she noticed the left sleeve of Merlin's robes were covered in blood.

"It's alright," said Merlin, before she could get upset. "I healed it. Nothing major."

"There was another attempt made on Merlin's life today," Kingsley said, seating himself. "Unrelated to the first. They were in the Atrium, and Merlin was … listening to Verax speak. This witch was angry at Merlin for supporting Verax. She attempted to hurt several members of the Liberators as well."

"What did she do?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, something imaginative with some enchanted swords and maces," said Merlin. "She thought it was poetic license. It was all I could do to stop her hurting others. One of her swords managed to nick me when my attention was elsewhere."

"Things are beginning to get more violent," said Kingsley seriously. "The protests are no longer peaceful. From what Minerva tells me, several fights have also broken out at Hogwarts as well. What should we do?"

"I don't see that you can do anything," said Remus. "Trying to control the protestors would just cause more trouble."

"But we can't let them get away with all this-"

Several voices erupted at once, as people began clamouring to be heard. Even amongst the Order, opinion was divided as to whether or not Merlin was right in supporting Verax.

"He's proven himself to be volatile," said Hestia Jones. "It cannot be in anyone's best interests to help him."

"The man isn't the issue here, but what he _represents,"_ said Dedalus Diggle. "He's touched upon a subject wizards have been too scared to address the last three hundred years. We should consider it at least."

"But his _methods_-"

"-International Confederation of Wizards will never agree-"

"-will only lead to civil war-"

Harry found himself completely lost in the conversation, or rather debate, as it was turning out to be. He turned to Ron and Hermione. Ron he knew thought the entire idea was crazy, but Hermione … Her expression was thoughtful as she listened.

"This is such a big step though," she said. "It just _can't_ be done quickly, no matter what Verax says. They have to agree to compromise. We can't just leap into this without thinking."

"But nothing would get done," said Bill reasonably. "You know what politicians are like. They'll sit and debate this for years before deciding not to do it anyway. Verax knows that, and that's why he's piling on the pressure. They won't be able to ignore him."

Kingsley called a halt to the proceedings.

"This was not intended to be a debate," he said. "Just a warning about how out of hand things are getting. To borrow a phrase, we must all have constant vigilance. The whole country is ready to ignite. The Muggle election is going on today, by tomorrow the Muggles will most likely have a new Prime Minister, and you can bet Verax will try and do something about that fact."

Harry felt a sudden dread he could not explain. It was a long time since he had had even a passing interest in Muggle politics. He didn't even know which political party was in power at the moment, or who was likely the next PM, and he doubted many other wizards did either. Surely it wasn't a good idea for wizards to ignore the politics of the society that they co-existed with? It seemed ominous to him.

"I still think you should speak to him about the Liberator movement," Merlin said. "Get his opinion at least."

"Whoever is elected will have a hard enough time coming to terms with the idea of magic without dropping this on him as well," said Kingsley. "I prefer to wait-"

"Always waiting," Merlin said bitterly.

"And what it wrong with waiting?" Kingsley said, his voice hard. "You fail to see the real issue here, Merlin. This is something that _must_ be done slowly. You may hate waiting, understandable considering how much of it you've done over the years, but you must recognise that to rush into this would be foolish."

"You don't need to take this burden on yourself, Merlin," said Luna.

"It is my cross to bear, no one else's," he said. "I will talk to him if you will not-"

"And you think dropping by his office and announcing you're the legendary Merlin would earn you any favours?" Kingsley asked, his voice now raised. "He would think you were mad, and rightly so. I will tell him what he needs to know, and no more until the International Confederation of Wizards has made up its mind whether or not to consider this proposal. Under no circumstances are you to approach him or any other Muggle."

Merlin's eyes flashed. "Is that an _order?"_

"Yes," said Kingsley, now on his feet, as everyone stared at the two of them. "You may be a powerful sorcerer from legend, but that does not mean you are above the law. _I _am the Minister for Magic, _I _am in charge of the magical people of this country. You are one of those in my charge, no matter how old you may be. Do not attempt to control this situation on your own. If you do, I could easily have Tonks arrest you."

Merlin reeled as though he had been hit, and everyone else sat in stunned silence, Tonks looking particularly uncomfortable. Kingsley was still standing, though he seemed to have calmed down somewhat.

"I am sorry," he said, his voice more gently. "But my decision is final. I am not about to bow to your demands, or Verax'. I must keep a level head. Please, do not make my job more difficult. If you really want this as much as you say you do, I need your support, not your condemnation. If this is to happen at all, we need to work together, and not be at odds with each other."

"You do not believe me when I say that this is the right thing," said Merlin, he too now seemingly controlling his anger. "How could we work together when we disagree on such a fundamental thing?"

"I want Muggles and wizards to live side-by-side peacefully as much as you do," said Kingsley. "My only issue is timing. It will happen someday, I have no doubt. But in this century, no, and perhaps not even the next. But in the meantime, we can ensure we can continue the peace we have now.

"Can it be called peace when one party is completely oblivious to the other's existence?" said Merlin, his voice now sad rather than angry.

"It is the only feasible peace at the moment," said Kingsley. "And I am determined to uphold it until we can _all_ agree the time is right."

He left the room, leaving everyone still reeling from the argument they had just witnessed. Ron whispered to Harry: "Did he seriously just threaten to arrest _Merlin?_"

Everyone was looking uncertainly towards Merlin now, no one seemed willing to speak. Harry kept his eyes fixed firmly on Merlin, worried by the dark circles he now saw forming under his eyes. He'd spent centuries torturing himself waiting for the return of the Old Religion, why did he have to go through this again? Why couldn't he find the peace that he'd wanted for so long? Harry certainly had; the last few months had been the happiest and carefree of his life. Merlin deserved the same.

"I suppose now wouldn't be a good time to mention my latest discovery?" Bill asked uncertainly. Everyone looked to him in relief for speaking up first. Remus turned to him with a rather forced smile.

"What did you discover?"

Bill reached into a bag he had by his side, and withdrew an ancient leaf of parchment, tied in a scroll with a heavy seal on it. He hesitated slightly.

"I've been helping the goblins clear out Slytherin's castle," he said, trying to catch Merlin's eye. "He had so many old valuable trinkets lying around; the Gaunts didn't seem to want to take them all when they left the place to build their own castle, and there's loads of secret rooms and stuff, with some pretty nasty things inside. Well, yesterday, I found a concealed door in the old library, with a small space behind it, like a sort of safe. All that was in it was this scroll."

"What is it?" Hermione asked. "A spell or enchantment?"

"Probably a curse, going by Slytherin's reputation," said McGonagall, eying it closely. "Have you read it?"

"No," said Bill, again looking straight towards Merlin. "There's a name written on the front. It took me a little while to be able to read it, the ink's faded and I couldn't read the writing at all; it was in some script I wasn't familiar with. But one of the experts at the Ministry helped me. The name is Emrys. The scroll is for you, Merlin."

Merlin immediately looked up, and all anger and resentment at the argument faded for a moment, replaced with an eager curiosity. "My name?" he asked, frowning. "But-"

"The seal is Slytherin's," said Bill, pointing it out. "It must be a letter from him. We haven't read it."

He held it out to Merlin, and Merlin took hold, carefully handling the aged parchment. He looked at the name on the scroll.

"Yes," he said. "It is Salazar's handwriting alright."

He hesitated for a moment, before carefully breaking the wax seal and unfurling the scroll, holding it up to the light. Harry caught a glimpse of some slender handwriting crammed into a small space, but was unable to recognise any of the words.

"What does he say?" Fred asked, leaning in for a better look. "Can you translate it for us?"

Merlin nodded. His cast his eyes over the first few words. "This is what it says:

'_My friend, Emrys_

_I leave this scroll in the walls of my library, in the vain hope that one day it shall be discovered. In writing this, I am acknowledging my belief that you shall be able to read these words in the future, in however many centuries that may be._

_Yes, Emrys, I know you are immortal, or long-lived at least. I believe I have known for a long time, though I never voiced it to you, nor to the others, though I suspect they believed the same. Your constant references to Camelot, the melancholy that overcame you whenever one of us would mention that city and several other factors led me to my conclusion. My suspicion was first seriously aroused during our trip to the Wizards' Council, when talk of Merlin and Camelot were always constant, and you seemed to have such intimate knowledge of the past. And when Chief Merrol raised the fact that you spoke with a rather archaic accent, the pieces began to fall together. I knew that you must be from the time of the Old Religion, that no other person would be so knowledgeable about a subject that had fallen into decline (your arguments with our Druid Divination teacher also led me to that conclusion). You mentioned waiting for your time to come, constantly waiting, and I knew then that the Old Religion had entrusted you with a task far greater than any one us could comprehend. I only sincerely hope that your destiny has finally come upon you, and you can find the peace that so eluded you in our years at Hogwarts._

_I know not why I write this to you, except that I wish you to know I have not forgotten your teachings, though I suspect history may paint me otherwise. I am now at the end of my life, Emrys, the last Founder, old and grey, which gives me much time to reflect upon the follies of my youth. I know now why you had to leave us, Emrys, though at the time, I blamed you for it. I hated you for abandoning us, I blamed you for the arguments that erupted between Godric and myself. We needed you, Emrys, but I understand now why it was not to be._

_I was a fool. So often you counselled me to forget my prejudices and my hatred of Muggles, but so often I rebuffed you, did not listen to your wise words. You may not believe me, but I am truly, _truly_, sorry. Perhaps it has taken my own dwindling health for me to realise it. My own son has deserted me, he cares nothing for me, and neither should he, for I was harsh and unkind to him. I have no one to comfort me in my final days. I regret my actions all those years ago, for now I am left friendless and alone, when once my life was filled with friendship and laughter._

_Do you remember the good times we shared? The time by the lake when the school motto was born, the annual balls and feasts, when even Rowena could be induced to smile and have fun? The loss of those friendships has pained me more than I can express to you in a letter. Godric was my dearest friend, and I regret to say I never reconciled myself with him before his death last year. Nor dear, sweet Helga, whose death I learned of just two weeks ago. She wrote to me a few times, begging me to return, but I ignored her letters. Even when she wrote to me of Rowena's illness and Helena's disappearance. I was callous, I was wrong, and more than that, I was a coward. She told me you were with Rowena when she died. I can only imagine the pain that must have caused you. I am sorry I was not there. _

_When I heard you had once again reappeared, miraculously unaged after ten years of absence during which I had made my shameful departure from the castle, I immediately began to search for you, for even then, I had begun to regret my actions. But you disappeared just as efficiently the second time as you did the first, and I was unsuccessful._

_So now I tell you what I wished I could have told you in person. I did not truly appreciate the Old Religion, the gifts it gave me. I forgot all that you had taught me in my own blind hatred, and now perhaps it is only a fitting fate for me to die alone in this castle, friendless. Nothing I ever say can make up for what I did, abandoning the castle like that. I only ask that you can forgive me, undeserving as I am._

_The school is now to be left without any Founders, and I fear for its survival. The Wizards' Council has closed in on it, despite our old efforts. I trust that you can protect the school from afar as efficiently as you once did. I pray that you can restore its old values, the ones I forsook myself. I have seen the death of everything I love, but the castle must remain strong. All our old hopes and dreams now rest within it. A peace between Muggles and wizardkind we always knew to be a long time away. I hope one day you can witness what we could not._

_I conclude this letter with my thanks for all that you taught me, and my sincerest apologies that I could not maintain the vision you had. The thought that you may one day read this puts my weary mind at rest, and I wish you every happiness for whichever century you now find yourself in. Do not waste your talents like I wasted mine._

_Your friend, Salazar_

Merlin, whose voice had become rather choked and thick as he read the letter, placed the scroll down on the table. He stared at it for a few moments; he looked oddly emotional.

"So he did regret what he did," he murmured softly. "I always wondered. "

"Sounds like you were good friends with him," said Tonks.

Merlin nodded. "Yes, I suppose I was." He leaned back. "I always guessed that the Founders knew I was older than I let on. It's not really a surprise."

"You believe him when he says he was sorry?" Ron asked, frowning.

"I do," said Merlin, looking back down at the letter. "Salazar was many things, but he never lied. I believe him. He was always such a conflicted man. I'm sorry it had to end that way for him."

He looked sadly down at the letter once more, and Harry found himself tracing the words with his eyes himself. It was odd to think of a man so widely known as Salazar Slytherin actually writing that letter one thousand years ago in the hope that Merlin would one day read it. Even stranger to think Harry would be around to hear it. It made the Founder's era seem so much closer. It made it seem so much more real.

"But do you forgive him?" Malfoy asked, looking hesitant. "I mean, after all that he did."

"I do," said Merlin again. "Salazar was a product of his times. Hatred and fear of Muggles was all that so many people had been raised to believe. He took it further than most, but I knew him well, and I know that in his heart, he was truly sorry for what happened. He always knew immediate peace with Muggles was unachievable."

"Then why do you think it is now?" asked Harry. "If you all knew back then how long it would take, why are you rushing into things now?"

Merlin fixed him with a long look. "Because that was one thousand years ago," he said. "Surely the time is near? True, we've stopped killing each other, but our friendships too have ended. What use is there in 'peace' with Muggles if it cannot be enjoyed? I owe this to Salazar and the Founders, and all those people over the centuries who've made this their lives' work. I can restore the peace they longed for."

"And why?" asked Harry. "Why does it _have_ to be you?"

Merlin laughed. "Look who's talking, 'Chosen One'. There are some tasks that are given to us to complete on our own. This is one of them."

"I'm not sure about that," said Harry. "I don't think this is what the Old Religion wants. If it was, I'd feel it somehow, I'd know it, but all I feel is confusion and dread whenever I think of ending this Statute. I know I'm new to this, but that has to mean something. You must feel it too. Is this what you hear the Old Religion telling you to do, or is this something you're doing for your own benefit?"

Merlin did not answer him, and instead continued staring at the letter, his brow furrowed.

* * *

"So, Slytherin regretted what he did, did he?" said Fred. "I suppose that makes everything all right then."

"Of course it doesn't," said Merlin. "But I can understand, and I can forgive. What use is holding a grudge anyway?"

"I still say he was a slimy git."

Merlin couldn't help but smile. "And you're a true Gryffindor. I can only imagine how the two of you would have gotten on.

It was the morning after the meeting, and Merlin, Fred, George and Draco were walking around London, Merlin having each of them practice Old Religion disguise charms. They were heading in the direction of Diagon Alley in order to try them out.

They weren't in any particular hurry, and strolled leisurely through the Muggle streets past everyday commuters and tourists. It was oddly calming, being so lost and anonymous amongst so many people, and Merlin was using the calm to try and sort out the constant muddle his brain had seemed to become.

The streets were lined with tatty posters of various political parties with the smiling faces of the different candidates smiling down at them, each of them completely still. Draco was watching them curiously.

"Strange that Muggle pictures don't move," he said, looking up a a parliamentary wannabee's face on the nearest poster. "I thought Muggles _did _have moving pictures?"

"They have television, which is completely different," aid Merlin. "That's moving pictures I suppose, but photographs don't move, no."

"Weird," said George, looking up at another poster.

They passed a newsstand, and Merlin cast a glance at the front page of the D_aily Telegraph: "_**Shock landslide for the People's Party", **was the headline, over a map of Britain coloured vibrant orange to signal the new People's Party constituencies. Next to this was a small photograph of the leader of the People's Party, the new Prime Minister, standing victorious at the announcing of the results.

"That's weird," said Merlin. "The People's Party? It was never even properly in the running. How come it won a landslide?"

"You're asking the wrong people, mate," said Fred, looking dumbfounded at the paper. "I don't know a thing about Muggle politics."

Merlin felt a stab of annoyance as he always did at every mention of ignorance of the Muggle world, but pushed it aside. He took a galleon from his pocket, and closing his eyes to hide the glow, he Transfigured it into a pound coin to hand to the vendor. He took the paper and flicked through all the list of constituencies, seeing that the People's Party had won a majority in almost all of them.

"This is really strange," said Merlin. "This party came out of nowhere. It only won six seats in the last election, how come it now has six hundred?"

"If I even knew what that meant-"

But Merlin wasn't listening, but was pacing up and down on the pavement, reading through the reports.

"I don't understand it," he said. "The three major political parties don't even get a look in. How could such a marginal party win an election? This wasn't what was predicted at all."

He stopped his pacing, and turned to the others, a sudden dread within him.

"You don't think there's something suspicious about this?" he said. "That the Liberators started their campaigns around the time the Muggles were gearing up to vote, that something like this has happened?"

"What could Muggle government have to do with them?" George asked. "Unless they think this new Prime Minister would be more open to negotiation with Kingsley about ending the Statute?"

"Possibly," said Merlin, resuming his pacing again. "The last Prime Minister was completely against it. They might be trying to exert their influence by tampering with election results."

"But how could they do that?" Draco asked. "Muggle elections involve millions of people, don't they?"

"It's like I've suspected, they've been planning this for months," said Merlin. "This has happened at exactly the right moment for them."

"So, is this a good thing or a bad thing?" Fred asked. "Do we think this new PM will help the Liberators? Wait, you think he's a Squib or something?"

"I doubt it," said Merlin. He looked down at the newspaper again, examining the face of the new Prime Minister, a man he hadn't even known existed. "But I'm sure Verax is behind this, and I won't be happy until I find out why."

They continued on their way, and soon wound up in Diagon Alley, where not a single witch or wizard seemed concerned with the Muggle election. Verax and the Liberators were the subjects on everyone's lips. Merlin couldn't even be distracted by Fred and George's pranks at their joke shop, and couldn't wait to be on his way again. Even now, the new PM was entering Downing Street. Was Verax influencing him?

After a few hours, they ended up back on the streets of central London, Fred and George doing a good impression of their father by examining every single Muggle artefact they came across, with even Draco looking interested. They emerged into Trafalgar Square, and sat down by the fountains.

Masses of tourists filed past, their cameras clicking non-stop as dozens of pigeons soared overhead and children cooled their feet in the fountains and climbed the monumental lions that surrounded Nelson's Column. But even here, the election was being discussed. Men in suits crossed the square, each carrying copies of newspapers and others sat on benches reading through the papers with frowns on their faces. A couple of news reporters stood in one corner, apparently interviewing one of the disappointed candidates, a large colourful rosette on his shirt.

The feeling of dread that had accompanied Merlin ever since the morning seemed only to increase as he sat here, concealed within the heart of Muggle London. As much as he wanted the end of the Long Separation, the idea of tampering with Muggle elections made him uncomfortable. He had thought Verax had had good intentions, but the demonstration in the park and now this made Merlin wonder whether he had been mistaken. Perhaps Kingsley and Mr Weasley were right, and Verax truly was not to be trusted. Merlin did not like his methods.

The bad feeling grew and grew.

Suddenly, a great green flash filled the entirety of the square, so bright it stung at his eyes, a clap of thunder sounded and several people screamed. The entirety of Nelson's Column had been set alight by emerald flames that licked their way up and down the stonework like fire on a tree trunk. The top was engulfed by a great fiery ball of green energy.

Terrified tourists turned to the column in frozen terror, and the television crew pointed their cameras hurriedly at the column, their interviewee forgotten. Merlin and the others leapt to their feet, but they too were frozen at the sight of the flaming column.

Popping noises filled the square as about twenty men and women Apparated in front of the column, surrounding it on each side, each of them with their wands outstretched. One of the witches stepped forwards, her face cast in an eerie light by the still flaming column.

"Fear not, Muggles," she cried to the terrified crowd. "We have come to end your oppression! We, your magical brethren welcome you back to our world. Let our two races never be separate again!"

Then, all the Liberators raised their wands and cried out a multitude of spells. The great carved lions came to life and stood up, stretching themselves and roaring loudly before rearing up onto their hind paws and running off to surround the Muggles, who screamed hysterically. Each of the fountains burst open as jets of water streamed from each of them several feet into the air like geysers, combining above the heads of the Muggles like a curtain of water, which shimmered with light. Wands were pointed into the air, and flowers rained down below. Birds issued from the ends of wands. Cars and busses in the streets beyond swerved and crashed into to each other with a great noise. The policemen patrolling Trafalgar Square were hastily calling for back-up. Children began to cry. Everyone tried to run from the blazing column.

But something held them back, some great force field at the edge of the Square. They tuned back to the witch.

"We are the witches and wizards of your country," the witch announced, her voice magically amplified. "We come to join with your people once more. Magic and non-magical people shall live together once more. Cicero Verax has commanded it, and all of you shall join with us in realising his vision. Magic, has returned!"

Merlin didn't have to hear the terrified screams of the Muggles, see the red light of the news camera broadcasting live to the nation, or the looks of horror on his companion's faces to know just how serious this situation was.

Everything was about to change.

* * *

**A/N: Dun, dun dun ... what now? ;)**

* * *

**Quick note: In this chapter and the following couple, there are a few mentions of British politics, which I have deliberately tried to keep as simple as possible, as I know there are a lot of international readers of this story who may not be familiar with the British political system (I certainly don't know a thing about American politics, Australian politics etc). The People's Party mentioned in this chapter are not a real party, and I'm working on the assumption that all Muggle politicians mentioned in the Harry Potter books do not equate to real life e.g. Tony Blair who was elected in 1997 and was really PM in 1999 was not the one defeated in this General Election. None of the characters or policies in future chapters are based on any real life political party to stop me from being accused of Labour/LibDem/Tory bashing in the fic. **

**Don't know much about politics myself, so it won't be too in depth, so don't worry. Just ask if I'm not clear about certain things :)**


	5. Meeting with the Other Minister

**A/N: First off, I'M SO SORRY! I promised to update even through my exams, but I underestimated how much of my time it would take. I apologise sincerely for the gap. I'd meant to get down to this story the last couple weekends, but this week I was taking a Brownie camp (where the kids taught me the addiction that is loom bands) and the weekend before it was Eurovision (every one of you from Europe can appreciate just how awful/amazing and unmissable it is). Anyway, I've been studying a lot of witch hunts and trials for my exams which has had a great effect on the way I'm writing this story, and vice versa; I swear to God I almost wrote about the International Statute of Secrecy in my exam last week :O**

**Anyway, let the story (finally) continue! No more exams for me! :)**

* * *

Harry felt like he was in some sort of dream. He was vaguely aware of being dragged out of class by an urgent Patronus from McGonagall and he and the others being Flooed away to Grimmauld Place to a confused and panicked jumble of Order members, DA, Aurors creating a ruckus as people jabbered and shouted over each other to be heard. Was this really happening?

"Kingsley!" McGonagall cried, immediately silencing everyone else in the room, with her sharp tone, her face unusually white. "Tell me it isn't true. Tell me that this hasn't happened."

"Oh, it's happened," Kingsley said, his voice a near growl. "Believe me."

"But how?"

"How did this happen?"

"It's been five hours now since it happened," said Kingsley, talking over the clamouring crowd. "Liberators Apparated into the centre of each of the UK's capital cities, London, Edinburgh, Cardiff ad Belfast, and displayed their magic in front of hundreds of Muggles. And in each of these areas it just so happens there were Muggles from television stations broadcasting live to the nation. The images are now all over Muggle Britain. There are also unconfirmed reports of similar incidents in Dublin, Paris and Berlin. To go back now, would involve Obliviating millions of Muggles across all of Europe."

Everyone stared at him, their eyes wide in horror. Harry felt a strange sort of rushing in his ears as he tried to comprehend this. He'd felt it, earlier on, a great feeling of dread inside of him that had suddenly flared up so painfully that he had cried out during lunch at Hogwarts. But he had never suspected _this_ for a moment.

McGonagall sank into a chair. "But _why?_" she asked faintly. "We were discussing their demands, we weren't being unreasonable. Why did they do this?"

"Because they had the perfect opportunity," said Kingsley. "The Muggle government is in the middle of transition, they've got a Prime Minister who hasn't even been in office twenty four hours."

"How are the Muggles reacting?" Mr Weasley asked.

"How do you think?" Tonks asked, looking weary, her hair mouse brown. "There's mass panic everywhere. There's riots and looting in London, people running about on the streets in a sort of delirium. They think we've declared war on them, and who can blame them after what the Liberators did?"

"What about the Muggle government?" asked Remus. "What are they doing?"

"They've imposed martial law," said Kingsley. "They've got police and army members taking control of all major cities. They think we're terrorists of some sort."

"And how are we supposed to stop this?" Hermione asked. "What can we do to fix it?"

"I don't know," said Kingsley, and for a moment, instead of the strong man Harry had come to regard him, he looked simply lost. "I'm going to have to try and meet with the Muggle Prime Minister, I just stopped by here to fill you all in quickly. But he'll be surrounded with security men with guns, and they'll probably see me as a threat the moment I try and Apparate in. There may be just no reasoning with him. Not under these circumstances."

"I'll help," said Merlin, who had just walked through the door with Fred, George and Malfoy. Each of them looked distinctly worse for wear.

"Where have you been?" asked Kingsley, and his voice was hard.

"We were in Trafalgar Square when it all kicked off," said Fred. "Total lunatics! Set fire to Nelson's Column and then set a bunch of giant lion statues on them! No wonder the Muggles are terrified!"

"I'll come with you," said Merlin, ignoring Fred and looking at Kingsley.

"I think they may have had enough shocks for one day without introducing them to Merlin."

"Then use a fake name!" said Merlin. "I've got more experience interacting with Muggles than all of you, especially Muggle leaders. I may be able to help."

"I'm not sure you're the best person for this," said Kingsley, standing up to leave. "You are biased after all."

"Biased?" asked Merlin.

"You wanted this to happen," said Kingsley, almost glaring at Merlin. "And now you're trying to fix it?"

"I never wanted this," said Merlin. "Not in this way. I need to help create peace before things get out of hand."

"You think peace can come of this?" Kingsley shouted.

"We need to try," said Merlin, and his voice was desperate. "You're right. I wanted the Muggles to find out, but I would _never_ have done it this way. Let me help. This is what I was born for."

"You know, I find it suspicious that you happened to be there when all of this happened," said Kingsley. "Coincidence?"

Now it was Merlin's turn to look angry. "You think I was _involved?_"

"You've expressed support for Verax-"

Merlin's eyes seemed to flash gold. "Don't dare accuse me of helping that man," he said, his voice trembling. "I was ready to support him in accomplishing his goals, but he has betrayed any trust I had in him. This is not what I wanted."

The two seemed to stay glaring at each other for several minutes, before Kingsley eventually looked away. "You can come," he said. "But do not think for one second that I have forgotten. Remus, I can trust you to keep a cool temper. Come with us."

"Yeah, sending the Minister for Magic, Merlin and a werewolf to the Muggles is sure to ease their worries," said George, but everyone ignored him.

"They've called an emergency Cabinet meeting at Downing Street," said Kingsley, moving over to the fireplace. "We need to move fast. Merlin, you need to be prepared for any attack they may launch on us when we step out of the fireplace. This first meeting has to be a success. The fate of every witch or wizard on the planet is now resting with us."

Merlin and Remus nodded, and moved to stand beside Kingsley. A few moments and some Floo powder later, and they were gone.

A stunned silence was left behind them. No one knew what to do.

"There's no way we can go back into hiding now," said Neville. "We can't cover this up."

"No, we can't," agreed Charlie. "Even if we try to convince the Muggles it was all some great publicity stunt, too many people saw what really happened. There's too much evidence."

"What'll happen to us now?" asked Hermione, holding on to Ron's hand. "What will the Muggles do?"

Harry wished he knew.

* * *

Merlin had only a few seconds after emerging from the fireplace to assess the situation as best he could.

The new Muggle Prime Minister, John Rogers, had called members of the Cabinet to meet in Downing Street to discuss the new situation and new state of emergency. Unfortunately, with the new Prime Minister only having had time to announce four of the members of his new Cabinet, all the members of the previous Cabinet, plus several others including the previous Prime Minister had turned up. Old and new MPs had arrived, whether members of the old or new Cabinet or not and the room was abuzz with personal secretaries, leaders of the armed forces, police chiefs and a multitude of others. The room was a barely controlled chaos, which only worsened with the sudden appearance of Kingsley, Merlin and Remus.

Everyone leapt to their feet and yelled, the army officials withdrew guns, and security men from outside the room were called in, and the policemen brandished weapons. Merlin hastily constructed a shield (invisible, so as not to panic them further) in case of attack. Kingsley wasted no time.

"Do not fear me," he said, in his deep, calm voice, his face not betraying an inch of fear or panic. "I only wish to talk."

"T-Talk?" said the new Prime Minister, a tall, weedy looking man with white hair that looked as though he'd been running his hands through it constantly. He looked close to collapse. "B-but you-you're-"

"My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt," said Kingsley, keeping his voice carefully calm and controlled, despite the guns that were pointed at him. "I am the Minister for Magic."

The entire room stared and went silent.

"Minister for Magic?" the Prime Minister repeated faintly.

"Yes," said Kingsley. "I am sure you all know by now that the events that have been taking place all over the country have been the result of magic."

"Rubbish!" cried one of the Cabinet members. He was shaking his head furiously. "Magic isn't real. It's all a big trick! It's a terrorist trick."

"Was entering through your fireplace a trick?" Kingsley asked him. "You have seen the images. You know that what I say is true."

The Prime Minister was still gaping at Kingsley. "_Magic?_" he said. "You expect me to believe that?"

"He's telling the truth," piped up the previous Prime Minister, who was lurking in a corner, his head in his hands. "He's a wizard, he's proven it to me before. They have magic. He runs a parallel government that deals with all the magical people that live in Britain."

Now everyone was staring at him, and Merlin felt almost sorry for him.

"You _knew?_" yelled the previous Chancellor for the Exchequer. "You knew m-magic existed?"

The previous Prime Minister bowed his head. "Yes, I knew."

There was a massive uproar as everyone screamed at him at once.

"Tell me, how did you know?" the current Prime Minister yelled, at once silencing everyone else in the room. He seemed calmer, though still watched Kingsley and the others out of the corner of his eye. "How could you have known of the existence of these … _people_ and not told the general public?"

"Would you have believed me?" the former Prime Minister said miserably. "I hardly ever saw him anyway. All I knew was that they existed, and that it was their job to keep themselves hidden from the rest of us. Then the last couple years everything went into chaos when their world went into a sort of civil war with some evil wizard killing wizards and normal people alike. Why do you think I've been having all these strange laws passed? Why do you think I declared a national holiday last year, and all of you thought I was losing it? The evil wizard they'd been fighting had been defeated."

"And you were happy just to let these people who were killing and fighting each other live amongst us? How could you have endangered us in this way?"

"He had no choice," said Kingsley interrupted, causing attention to divert back to him. "It has been the way for centuries. Every time a new Muggle (that is to say, non-magical) Prime Minister is elected, the current Minister for Magic introduces themselves to him, and informs him of our existence. We then only meet with him if there is an issue that affects both our worlds."

The entire room was now hanging on his every word. "Our worlds have co-existed for millennia," said Kingsley. "Witches, wizards and Muggles side-by-side. But your people, and mine also I am afraid, could not remain peaceful for long and both sides began to prosecute the other. And so, after a long period of prosecution and witch-hunts, in the year 1689, the magical government of this country and others signed the International Statute for Secrecy effectively sending us into hiding from all of you. We have been separate ever since."

"You mean you've lived alongside us all these years without letting us know?" said one of the Cabinet.

"_All_ old Prime Ministers know about magic?"

"The witch-hunts killed actual witches?"

"There are magical people in other countries?"

"Silence!" said the Prime Minister, looking directly back at Kingsley, all fear now forgotten, a glimmer of anger in his eyes now. "And why have you now broken this Statute? Why attack us? Why declare war on us, especially when at this crucial moment?"

"It wasn't him," said Merlin, causing everyone to look at him as though just realising he was there. Kingsley nodded.

"This is my associate … Emrys," he said. He turned to his left. "And this is Remus Lupin. Both are close persona l advisors. They speak with my authority."

"Kingsley didn't declare war on you," said Merlin. "It was a group called the Liberators who did these things. They have been campaigning for an end to the International Statute for Secrecy. They claimed not to want the separation of our two peoples any longer and they were frustrated by our attempts to solve the matter diplomatically and so took matters into their own hands. They are not affiliated with the Ministry. I suppose you could call them terrorists; they do not have our backing. They are as much our enemy as they are yours."

"And you expect us to believe that?" the Prime Minister said, whose eyes seemed to be bulging. "Why should we? How do we know you do not support them? How can we trust people who have lied and concealed themselves from us for so long?"

Merlin inwardly winced; this was exactly the issue that had plagued him in Camelot- how to tell Arthur he was a sorcerer without Arthur being angry and unable to trust him again.

"We went into hiding to protect both our people and yours from hatred and prosecution," said Merlin. "As many Muggles as wizards were killed during the witch-hunts. It was … necessary to go into hiding for the sake of both peoples."

"And how exactly have you influenced us in all this time?" a woman asked angrily. "If you've got such influence over Prime Ministers-" here she shot a dirty look at the other Prime Minister who had his hands over his face-" just how much have you interfered. How much power have you held over us? How dare you think you can control us!"

"We have never controlled you," said Merlin. "We do not interfere with your government. All we do is liaise with the Prime Minister of the day, to ensure he is kept informed to the status of our people so as to not endanger his own."

"And how are we supposed to believe that?" she said, glaring at Merlin. "How can we believe anything that comes out of your mouth? Your people have been hiding amongst ours for centuries."

"You have no choice but to believe us," said Kingsley. "Wizardkind have been almost entirely separated from Muggles for centuries, and we have no interest in interfering with your government, unless it is to ensure the security of our own. Hiding from your people gives us no pleasure, but, as Emrys says, it was necessary." Here he shot a curious look at Merlin, but said nothing.

"You have attacked us!" said a man in a military uniform.

"We have not," said Kingsley. "We are perfectly willing to work with you in dealing with this threat; they are criminals in our eyes as well as yours."

"And how do you expect to do that?" said the woman from before. "The country is in chaos. There's looting and rioting in all the major cities, government buildings are being stormed, people are in a panic."

"I am well aware of the severity," said Kingsley. "There has never been a breach this widespread before. But we must work together to deal with it." Here he cast his eyes around the room, drawing everyone in with his words. "There is chaos in both our worlds. The only way we can combat it is if we work together in a way our two races have not done in centuries. That is the only way peace can be brought about."

"You expect peace to come from the people's Prime Minister working with those terrorists who attacked them?" the Prime Minister asked, his eyes hard.

"We did not attack you-"

"So you say, yet I am not sure whether to believe you," said the Prime Minister, looking at his fellow politicians. "How are we supposed to know that you mean us no harm? We have all seen what your people are capable of doing. They could easily take control of the entire country and enslave us all with their unnatural abilities. How are we supposed to know that by working with you we can end this violence? Perhaps you are just trying to infiltrate our government?"

"We are not," said Remus. "Believe me, if we wanted to take over Muggles, we could do it without you even realising. You must believe us when we say we mean no harm to Muggles. My own mother was one."

"As was mine," said Merlin, nodding. "Our races are not so separate as you seem to think. Keeping you all in ignorance is something I have long been uncomfortable with, as have many others. Too long have our people treated yours with condescension and arrogance. But we have never meant you harm, and now we want to work together to end that ignorance, end the fear between both our people and solve this."

"You mean normal people can have magical children?"

"Yes," said one of the politicians, who alone looked calm, though rather pale. "My … my daughter has magic. She goes to their magical school."

The Cabinet turned to look at him, their mouths dropping open.

"I thought she went to a private boarding school in France?" said one of the others.

The man shook his head. "No. She's always had magic, she was always doing weird things, but we never knew what it was until someone from the school came to talk to us about it. I – I don't understand magic much, but she loves it, she loves that whole world. I don't believe there's anything wrong with it. True, they shouldn't have lied to us about it, but magic itself isn't something evil or untrustworthy."

"Exactly," said Remus, smiling at the man, who seemed very uncomfortable. "Please, you must all see sense in this. We can help you end this chaos, and we can work together to reintegrate our two societies without bloodshed. If you don't accept our help, who knows what could happen?"

"Is that a threat?" asked the Prime Minister angrily.

"No," said Kingsley. "A warning that your people and mine could very easily resort to the same bloody warfare that existed in the seventeenth century unless we take steps to prevent it, together."

The Prime Minister still looked angry, but some of the others looked afraid. They were looking between Kingsley and the Prime Minister uncertainly.

"You-" began a younger member of the Cabinet. "you said this was an _International _Statute of Secrecy?"

"Yes," said Kingsley heavily. "This problem will not be unique to Britain, I assure you. The violence could be worldwide. I cannot prevent what will happen in other countries, but I can help what will happen here. Let us prove to the rest of the world that we can work together to achieve peace. They will follow suit. Do not pass up this opportunity."

"An opportunity to work with the snakes that have been hiding from us in full view?" the Prime Minister asked. "Why should we do that? Why should we work with people who practice Satanic rites and use unholy spells to control others?"

Merlin felt a chill go through him as he heard these words, words he had not heard from the lips of a Muggle in centuries.

Kingsley however, did not betray a flicker or emotion. "You do not understand us, Prime Minister," he said. "That is understandable. Let us help you restore peace on your streets, and then you must give us the opportunity to fully explain ourselves to the Muggle population. With understanding comes acceptance."

The Prime Minister looked ready to object, but the others were buzzing with conversation. The guns pointed at them seemed to lower slightly. Merlin was thrilled to see some of them looking thoughtful, and even a few nods.

"It makes sense," said one of the previous Cabinet members.

"Yes," said another. "We have to let people know the truth about what's been going on. They'll just be more afraid if we hide things from them."

"Give him a chance."

The Prime Minister seemed to glare at all those who had spoken before turning back to Kingsley.

"Very well," he said, though his eyes were cold. "I will … _compromise. _You control your people, and I shall attempt to restore order amongst my own. I do_ not_ want your … _witches_ interfering whatsoever in our affairs. Then, in three days time, I'll call a meeting in the House of Commons with the new parliament. You will be there, along with seven representatives, and then we shall talk, and every second of it shall be broadcast live to the general public. You shall explain all that you have done to our people without their knowledge. Then, I shall decide whether to work with you, or whether to declare a war against the people who have manipulated us for so long." He took a step closer to Kingsley. "Until then, I am treating you as leader of a foreign government, Mr Shacklebolt. Your people have no rights as British citizens until we say so. You are intruders and infiltrators, understood?"

"Intruders?" objected Merlin angrily. "We've been here as long as you have!"

Kingsley held up a hand to silence Merlin. "It is understood," he said, though his jaw tightened as he did so. "Hopefully you shall see sense, Prime Minister, when the time comes. We must make an alliance, or we shall all be destroyed."

The Prime Minister seemed to glare at Kingsley again. "I pray that I shall have the strength to defend the British people, regardless of which option I choose," he said. "The righteous shall always triumph, and so far, a people who have lied, deceived, manipulated and coerced others for three centuries as well as practicing evil arts does not appear so very righteous to me."

"In three days time then," said Kingsley, bowing his head, and he turned to head back to the fireplace. Remus followed him, but Merlin paused for a second, looking at the faces before him, a mixture of anger, betrayal, curiosity, hate, and above all, fear.

He turned towards the fireplace, an awful feeling of dread settling in his stomach, so strong it made him feel sick. The last time he had felt it this strong had been the day that Arthur was killed, day the people had once again turned against magic. It was the feeling of knowing something awful was about to happen, something good was about to be destroyed yet knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He only hoped this time around, things could be fixed.

* * *

"So, what do you think our chances are?" McGonagall asked Kingsley, Merlin and Remus when they returned. Harry sat up, eager.

Kingsley didn't say a word, resting his chin on his fingertips after settling himself in a chair.

"It's a pretty messy affair," said Remus instead. "They don't trust us, and to be honest, they have no reason to. We're going to meet them in their parliament in three days time to discuss the issue. We have until then to try and restore some peace and build up an argument."

"And will we win?" asked Charlie. "Are they open to negotiation?"

"Some are," said Merlin, his face expressionless. "We have to reason with them."

"And what about Rogers?" said Kingsley, speaking now and looking directly at Merlin. "You heard the man. He detests us for hiding from him. You think he can be reasoned with?"

"We must try," insisted Merlin, staring back at him. "Everyone can be reasoned with."

"And what about King Uther?" said Kingsley. "He hated magic, he would have hated you for concealing it from him had he found out. Would you have been able to reason with _him?_"

Merlin tensed slightly. "Uther was a madman, and almost pure evil," he said. "He was blind to everything. And people nowadays are more enlightened. The British government are hardly about to try and execute us."

"Are you sure?" said Kingsley, leaning in. "Are they really more enlightened? Are any of us? Look at everything that's happened in the wizarding world alone in the last five years. How enlightened are we if such awful things could have happened? Muggles are no different. We may believe ourselves more enlightened, but are we really? Has human nature really changed that much?"

"I have to believe it has," said Merlin firmly. "I have to believe that they will listen to reason above their own base instincts of fear and aggression. If we don't believe that, we're destined to fail."

There was silence for a moment. Then, a witch whose name Harry didn't know but who he recognised from the newspapers as being the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister stepped forwards, almost timidly.

"Minister?" she said, waiting for him to stop looking at Merlin, to turn towards her. "We've been receiving a storm of owls and Floo messages, sir. From magical governments all over the world. Their ambassadors are causing uproar in the Ministry. They're blaming you for all of this. Most of them now no longer believe Merlin is who he says he is. They want answers. "

Kingsley nodded. "As I expected they would. Let the Head of Magical Cooperation deal with it. Tell him to let them all know that I have begun talks with the Muggle government and hope to reach a peace accord, and I suggest they all try similar tactics with their own governments. Let them know as well that I am taking steps to have these Liberators arrested and brought to justice. Send an owl to the International Confederation of Wizards as well."

She nodded, and left the room. Mr Weasley turned to Kingsley.

"You're bringing Verax in?"

"Yes," said Kingsley, and there was a flicker on anger in his eyes. "He was entitled to hold whatever opinions he chose, but acting on those opinions has broken several international laws and he must be held accountable. There is no doubt now that he is behind this. It has been his plan from the beginning. The attack in the park was just the beginning. I will have him dealt with."

His eyes were focused on Merlin the entire time, who was staring straight back at him.

"I had nothing to do with it," Merlin said to him. "I do not, and would never have condoned this action."

"You encouraged him," said Kingsley. "You wanted him to be successful."

"Not like this," said Merlin.

"But you still don't think it is a bad thing, do you?" asked Kingsley, tilting his head to one side. "I saw you in the meeting, telling the Muggles that we can all work together like the good old days, as if it would be that simple."

"What did you expect me to say? It's all going to turn out badly?" said Merlin.

"You don't seem upset that the Statute has been broken."

"I would never have broken it like this," said Merlin. "But you're right, no I'm not as devastated as all of you. We need to take this opportunity to make the most out of what has happened. It's not ideal circumstances, but we still have to try, and maybe eventually, everything will work out."

"Not ideal circumstances?" Kingsley asked, in disbelief. "The circumstances could not be worse!"

"As long as swift action is taken to prevent bloodshed, I sincerely believe that with the help of the Muggle government, we can succeed," said Merlin, trying to convince himself more than anything. "Rogers may be reluctant, but he is not in sole control of the country. We must use this meeting in three days to convince them of the truth, all of them, and then we can work on this."

"Rogers is more than reluctant," said Kingsley. "You heard him, he thinks magic is evil, a sin."

"That is because he does not understand-"

"You do not understand," said Kingsley rising to his feet. "Your stubbornness in not helping me stop Verax in his tracks has cost us dearly. You do not seem to understand how serious this is. What is at stake. What could happen if it all goes wrong!"

Merlin to leapt to his feet, glaring at Kingsley.

"Don't _dare_ say that I do not understand!" he said, breathing heavily. "I understand more than you ever could. You're a mere child compared to me. You have no idea what I have seen over the years. You weren't there. You didn't stand helpless as people were led away to be executed. You didn't hear their dying screams, their pleas for mercy. You didn't have to walk past their rotting corpses on the gallows. You didn't have to hide your magic books and wand, your very i_dentity _underneath floorboards to stop them being seen by enemies, the people who were once your neighbours and your friends before they found out the truth. You didn't have to watch the fear in someone's eyes as a Muggle approached them with an axe. You didn't have to smell the stench of the burning flesh of a _child_ tied to a stake."

He took a ragged breath here, his eyes wild with emotion. "I know perfectly well what is at stake here," he said, his voice quavering. "I have seen it. I understand better than any of you. But despite all of that, I will not give up hope. Hope was the only thing that kept me going through all of that, and I will trust to it now. When Arthur found out, I was terrified that he'd execute me, but I didn't give in to that fear, I didn't give up hope and I reasoned with him, helped him and the others (some of whom detested me more than Rogers does) see that I could be trusted again. No matter the fear, no matter the hatred, it can be overcome if we try hard enough. I won't give up, despite the risks."

"We don't have a choice anyway," said Mr Weasley, who interjected tentatively. "We are left with no option _but_ to negotiate, we can't hide anymore, even if we wanted to. Verax has decided that for all of us."

"Yes, he has," said Kingsley, still looking at Merlin. "And I hope that Verax's actions have not doomed us all. I hope that the time is, as you say Merlin, right. Because if it isn't, Verax's actions may have doomed us all."

He and Merlin stared at each other for several minutes before Kingsley moved out from behind his chair.

"I must get back to the Ministry," said Kingsley, moving towards the fireplace. "I have to act before there are riots on Diagon Alley as well as Muggle London. I suggest you all get back to where you were and try and keep the peace as best you can."

And he vanished, leaving a very tense atmosphere behind him.

* * *

Harry wandered through Grimmauld Place many hours later, following his instincts, trying to find who he was looking for. He'd just returned from Hogwarts, where he and the others had had a rough time trying to convince the students there not to panic. Several Muggle-Born students had wanted to return home, but McGonagall had stopped them, claiming it may put them and their families in danger if they did.

He'd come back now, after he and the DA and McGonagall had restored as much peace as they could. His mind was racing, and he needed someone who help him sort it out, to answer his questions.

His instincts led him straight to the drawing room, and he walked straight in. Merlin was in there, curled up in a chair, as Harry had sensed, but he was surprised to find Luna sitting by him. Despite the bleak circumstances, she smiled at Harry when she noticed him.

"Hiya, Harry," she said. She looked at Merlin. "Aren't you going to say hi, Merlin?"

Merlin looked up at Harry, and Harry froze to see such conflict in his eyes. For the first time since Harry had known him, he actually looked young, he looked lost.

"You're here to see Merlin then?" said Luna brightly. "He isn't up for much talking."

"Tough," said Harry, moving to sit in a closer position. "I need to talk to you."

Merlin smiled weakly. "There's no more news, Harry," he said. "The Muggle army and police force are still out trying to restore calm, and the Aurors are still trying to round up the Liberators."

"Do you really believe you can do this?" asked Harry, searching Merlin's face for answers. "Tell me the truth. Do you really think you can create peace between Muggles and wizards?"

Merlin was silent for a long time, and didn't look Harry in the eyes. Eventually, he looked back up again.

"I meant what I said," he began. "We have to try and make the most of this opportunity. But … maybe Kingsley was right and this opportunity should never have arisen in the first place. Maybe they aren't ready, and I was just too foolishly optimistic." Then his expression hardened. "But I'm not giving up. I need to make this right. It's my job to do this. It can be done, _I know it can_."

Luna frowned, and placed her hand on his. "You don't need to do it on your own," she said softly. "How many times do we all have to tell you? We're all here to help you, stop taking it all on yourself. And make things up with Kingsley. You'll never succeed if the two of you are at odds."

"Exactly," said Harry. "Kingsley's good at his job. Stop arguing with him all the time."

"Kingsley doesn't understand," Merlin said. "He doesn't really believe this is possible. Why can't he see that? He became Minister when we were fighting a seemingly unwinnable war against Morgana and Voldemort. He didn't give up then, why is he so cynical now?"

"Because then we had an actual enemy," said Luna. "Someone to focus our efforts on. We knew who we were fighting. Now, we don't. We're fighting amongst ourselves, we're a fractured society trying to negotiate with an even more fractured society. Things aren't certain. It's not just our lives at stake, or our way of living, it's our very future, the peace of the entire world. It's harder to fight shadows of discontent and fear than it is to fight an army."

Merlin glanced at her briefly, before taking in a deep breath. "That's always how it has been. I've been fighting shadows all my life. Kingsley hasn't."

"Then help him understand how," urged Luna. "Don't forget your friendship over this."

"I can't forget my friendship of Muggles either," said Merlin. "I will never forget that. And he has to realise that. Until he does, we can't have peace."

Luna looked at Harry, and with a jolt, he saw despair in her normally serene eyes. Harry too felt a sense of despair, whether from the Old Religion, or his own mind, he could not tell.

He knew that this was a fragile path, perhaps more fragile than Merlin realised, and all he could sense of the future was darkness. He couldn't see the gleam of light Merlin obviously could.

Harry looked back at Merlin, seeing his determined, yet worried features and wondered. Did Merlin really see a gleam of light in the future?

Or did he just wish he did?

* * *

**A/N: I'll update tomorrow or the day after to compensate for such a long gap. I swear! You can hunt me down if I don't ;)**

**I also apologise to not getting around to respondng to reviews. Thanks to everyone! :)**


	6. The House of Commons

**A/N: Sorry for the slight delay, this chapter took a lot more editing than I thought!**

**This chapter contains the debate in the House of Commons, and I've taken a lot of pains to get it as accurate as possible, though I admit, I've altered, disregarded and simplified some of the processes involved both for my benefit and those of you not familiar with the system (hey, I'm not writing a political drama!)**

**But I have tried to keep the essence of it all, and to do that, I purposefully watched Prime Minister's Questions this week, which everyone who ever watches it knows is easily one of the most boring programmes on British television, unless there's a **_**really**_** good debate on and everyone starts shouting at each other (some really funny examples on YouTube). In that respect, a couple of heads up:**

**Every statement is made to the impartial Speaker of the House of Commons, who calls on people to speak, you refer to each other in the third person (i.e. the honourable member for -insert constituency-) and despite the fact that there's supposed to be order and no rudeness, MPs consistently get around this and everything usually ends up in chaos as they shoot barely veiled insults at each other and literally boo and cheer each other constantly. I was also amazed in my research to discover that the House of Commons debating chamber doesn't even have seating capacity for every MP in the country, hence the overcrowding in this scene. I'm not sure how similar/dissimilar this is to other countries, so bear with me.**

**Overall, not too accurate, but not too inaccurate either; I just know I've made mistakes somewhere and the time I spent watching PMQs will have been wasted. Anyways, if I've been unclear, let me know. And if you're a politics student, sorry for mutilating the process! :)**

* * *

The House of Commons

"I've finally got the info on Rogers," said Bill triumphantly as he walked into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place to the assembled Order members on the morning of the House of Commons debate. He sat down, and deposited several sheets of paper, not parchment, on the table.

"Well?" asked Tonks, clutching a squirming Teddy. "Who is he?"

"Yeah, and where did he and his party come from?"

Bill opened a sheet before him. "His full name is John McMahon Rogers, and he was born on 3rd July 1937 in Cambridge. Led a pretty nondescript life for a while, graduated from Cambridge with a mediocre degree, went on to be a pretty standard civil servant in local government. Then about ten years ago, he started his own party, the People's Party, because he said he was sick of the government ignoring the lives of ordinary people and the values of British society. They only had a hundred members until about six months ago when their membership numbers went through the roof."

"You mean around the time Merlin revealed himself at the Ministry?" Hermione said, glancing at Merlin, who had so far remained quiet.

"Exactly," said Bill. "No one expected them to win more than half a dozen seats in the election, if even that, but for some reason, they won almost all of them, despite the fact that most people in Britain haven't even heard of them."

"Verax interfered," said Fred. "He must have."

"Obviously," said Bill, looking over his papers. "The new MPs, most of them don't even have any experience in government. This time last year most of them were just ordinary citizens. The guy Rogers appointed to be the new Chancellor of the Exchequer? Last year he was in charge of one local bank in a village of five thousand people. He knows nothing about running the finances of the entire country."

"Which of course will be what Verax wants," said Mr Weasley. "He wants the Muggle government to be as weak as possible so that they'll be open for negotiation."

"It gets worse," said Bill grimly. "The People's Party, well, they were known for being a party on the fringes. They're quite … traditional in their views on things. Especially religion."

Merlin looked up at his point, but said nothing.

"Go on," said Mrs Weasley. "What else?"

"Rogers is a fundamentalist Christian," said Bill. "He's a long-time church elder, runs a couple of Christian pressure groups and is well-known for proposing traditionally Christian viewpoints in his manifestos. Everyone that joins the party is required to be a Christian, and swear an oath on the Bible."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," said McGonagall. "My father was a Muggle Christian minister, and he did not love my mother or myself any less when he discovered the truth. It was a long time before they could build up the trust they had lost but they managed it. Being Christian doesn't mean someone is automatically unreasonable or intolerant."

"Usually, no," said Bill, "but Roger's views are a lot stricter. He once had one of his staff fired for running a marathon on a Sunday, and another for having a glass of whiskey at a wedding. He once had a statue of the Greek god Apollo removed from a building he'd bought because he said it was 'pagan idolatry' and 'not in keeping with Christian traditions'."

"Sounds like a psycho to me," said George. "How can we reason with a guy that thinks magic is evil?"

"With great difficulty," said Mr Weasley. He glanced at Bill's notes. "What are the Muggle newspapers saying?"

Bill winced, and Harry could tell why. The _Daily Prophet _was now almost certainly under Verax's influence, and was now publishing articles about how great this new step was, and that wizards should be out rejoicing and welcoming their Muggle neighbours. By contrast, Kingsley had advised all wizards to remain in their houses and have no interaction with Muggles until the peace talks were concluded, through use of the mercifully unbiased WWN.

"Of the ones that are still publishing, it's fairly mixed," said Bill, pulling a couple out from underneath his notes. "Mostly they're just reporting on the riots and arson attacks and the arrests, but some are expressing their opinions. Some are saying we need to discuss this rationally, others that we're a new enemy that has to be wiped out. In any case, all of them are telling people to tune into the debate."

"And how is the civil unrest?" asked Remus, looking drawn and tired from the previous night's full moon.

"Still pretty bad," said Bill. "Every major city across Europe is under army control because the riots are so bad, there's mass looting and there's been thousands of arrests. There's been curfews imposed everywhere, and it's spreading out of Europe too. People are afraid to leave their homes. It's only a matter of time before someone is killed."

Harry felt himself shudder at the thought of it. He wondered vaguely how the Dursleys were coping.

"Does Rogers have any legitimate grounds for objecting to magic on religion alone?" Charlie asked. "I mean, I don't really know much about it. Does he have any backing from religious authorities?"

"Again, it's divided," said Bill, pulling out more notes. "All the main faiths have different opinions, and even within those, there's a division. One leader is calling for peace talks and an end to violence but that magic is corruptive and should be abandoned, the Pope wants an end to the violence, but says all witches and wizards should give up magic and repent for their sins, and every other major leader is saying the same sort of thing; there's only a couple that are calling for outright retaliation against wizards. The Archbishop of Canterbury is telling everyone that they should embrace their magical neighbours and accept them into society as one of them, but the Archbishop of York … well, I won't bore you with what he has to say on the matter, but basically he says something along the lines of 'kill the witches.' The point is, everyone is divided and no one can agree on how to address the issue."

"Well, who wants a simple life anyway," said Fred. "Would be boring, wouldn't it?"

"It's more than that," said Bill, annoyed. "This guy's got no toleration for anybody outside his own little religious sect."

"I suppose I'd better not tell him I'm pagan then," said Merlin, speaking for the first time. "He might try and exorcise me or something. Wouldn't be the first to try it."

"Are you pagan?" Hermione asked. "I never thought you … well, I never really thought you were religious."

"I'm not really," said Merlin. "I follow the Old Religion, so I suppose that I am in some way. But when I was young, it wasn't just one God that we worshiped in my village. My mother had a whole lot of little figurines that stood by the window that she prayed to. I didn't really keep up with her beliefs after she died, but I didn't abandon them either. Even when I was trying to blend in with Muggles, I never attended a church out of respect for her. It got me into trouble quite a few times, I can tell you."

"Really?" said Hermione, and Harry had to roll his eyes at her unquenchable curiosity even in times like this. "Some Muggles nowadays say they're pagan. Is it any resemblance to the old beliefs?"

Merlin snorted. "Not even close. I've seen the sort of stuff they do, and believe me, it's a load of rubbish."

He sighed. "I suppose it doesn't really matter, the Muggles already have preconceptions of what magic is from their stories and television. We'll have to convince Rogers we're not Satan worshippers and child sacrificers in any case."

"You know," said Ron, who had been given a crash course in Muggle politics from Harry and Hermione, "I think the Liberators did this deliberately. Using a political party that's weak and unexperienced would be bad enough, but I think he deliberately used one that was maniacal Christian as well."

"But why?" said Ginny. "Surely he'd want them to be open to negotiation?"

"Unless it wasn't what he wanted at all," said Merlin, his fists clenched. "Unless he _wanted_ this inability to liaise."

"But why?"

Merlin just remained silent, and stared into the fire. Harry watched him carefully. He'd been mostly silent the last few days, disappearing for hours on end to speak to witches and wizards across the country and convince them to remain calm and take no action, but it wasn't proving successful. Many people blamed him for the state of affairs, saying he was working with Verax and some even that he wasn't the real Merlin.

At that moment, Kingsley, and his Senior and Junior Undersecretaries walked in, the Junior one looking around interestedly, having never been in Grimmauld Place before.

"I have bad news," aid Kingsley, to the assembled Order.

"They haven't called off the broadcast have they?" asked Remus in concern.

"No," said Kingsley, "but I hear things may be more difficult. The situation has worsened on the Continent. Angry mobs stormed the offices of several of these 'pagan religions' that some Muggles follow and … killed them."

Everyone gasped, and Harry felt sick. He could hardly believe it.

"They … they killed them?" said Mrs Weasley, her hand over her mouth. "But were they …"

"They were Muggles," said Kingsley, his face dark. "Innocent Muggles, killed. Forty of them in one city, fifty in another."

Harry felt almost dizzy as the reality of the situation seemed to hit him like a brick. Ninety Muggles killed?

"It's happening again," said Merlin, his voice pained. "Most people killed in the past were simple Muggles too. There's too much uncertainty, too much of an aura of fear."

"Yes," said Kingsley, his voice hard. "Now, we must go to Westminster and prevent the same thing happening in this country." He looked around at everybody. "I may bring seven of you, Rogers informed me. Roberts will come," he said, motioning to his Senior Undersecretary, "as will Merlin and Remus, since you were there the first time, Watkins, Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Andrews, Head of International Magical Cooperation and you Minerva; Hogwarts is incredibly influential in our world, and something that affects the lives of many Muggle-Borns and their families."

"I shall come," said McGonagall, her voice stern and strict as it always was. Harry suddenly noticed she along with Remus, Merlin and the Senior Undersecretary were wearing their very best and smartest Muggle attire; apparently already knowing they would be chosen.

"McGonagall? The Muggles won't know what hit them," whispered George to his twin.

"Hang on," said Harry. "That's only six. Who else is going?"

Here, Kingsley turned to look at him, a curious look in his eye.

"I had thought to bring the Head of the Auror Department," he said, "but Merlin convinced me otherwise. I'd like you to come, Harry."

"Me?" said Harry, hardly daring to believe it. "What help could I be?"

"You're the 'Chosen One' after all, despite the fact you're so young" said Kingsley. "You helped us win the war against Voldemort and Morgana and you _are_ one of the most influential people in the wizarding world, even if you are still at school. Plus, you were raised by Muggles, you know how to handle them. Especially difficult ones."

"That's different," said Harry. "Living with Muggles isn't the same. I haven't lived in the Muggle world properly since I was eleven. And back then I wasn't too interested in Muggle politics."

"You don't need to be," said Merlin. "You at least understand the fear and hatred that we are going to be faced with. You should be there, Harry."

"Is the 'Old Religion' telling you this?" Harry asked him suspiciously. "Because I don't sense it."

Merlin frowned. "The Old Religion doesn't tell me much anymore," he said, and the tone in his voice was bitter. "But I know that you should be involved."

Harry thought about it for a moment. The idea of standing up in front of hundreds of people in parliament on millions of people across the country's television screens in the House of Commons, the place he'd himself seen dozens of times on television was daunting to say the least. What help could he possibly be? He didn't have a clue how to resolve this.

He didn't sense the Old Religion telling him one way or the other, and obviously Merlin couldn't either. Was this the right thing to do? Would he actually make things worse? After all, how could the government of an entire country of millions listen to the advice of an eighteen-year old?

Then again, he wouldn't be on his own, Kingsley would do most of the talking, and, despite his initial fear, Harry felt he wanted to be there, wanted to see for himself what was happening.

"All right," he said finally, almost regretting it already. "But I don't see what help I can be."

"Help often comes from the most unexpected of places," said Remus, smiling at him. Harry wasn't reassured.

"You'll be fine, Harry," said Hermione. "You're smarter than you think."

"Thanks," said Harry. "I think."

"Don't worry," said Ginny on his other side, squeezing his hand gently. "You've faced Voldemort, how scary can some silly Muggles be?"

Ginny's gesture rather than her words instantly made him feel slightly better.

"Well," said Remus, standing up. "We'd all better go." He looked down at what he was wearing. "Are we Muggle enough?"

"Very good," said Hermione, looking over Remus, Kingsley, McGonagall and the Senior Undersecretary's clothes. "I can't vouch for the other two though."

"They're either Muggle-born or Half-Blood anyway," said Kingsley, "they should know how to dress. I want to give the Muggle government the best impression possible, and dressing like them suggests a respect for their customs."

Harry looked down at his own t-shirt, jeans and scruffy trainers and then at the Muggle suits Kingsley, Merlin and Remus were wearing. He instantly felt worse. At least he was wearing Muggle clothes though, however tatty.

"How are we getting there?" McGonagall asked. "Emerging soot-covered and coughing from a fireplace in the House of Commons doesn't strike me as giving a good impression, neither does Apparating and dropping in on them unexpectedly and scaring them half to death."

"I've got some Ministry cars waiting outside," said Kingsley. "Best to arrive as unmagically as possible. We want to appear unthreatening."

Harry nodded as he rose to his feet , though knowing Professor McGonagall's presence would certainly detract from any attempt at appearing to be unthreatening.

"Good luck," said Mr Weasley, who looked desperate to be going with them. "We'll be watching."

He nodded to an ancient television that was sitting in the corner that he had altered to run on magic rather than electricity and was now tuned into BBC 1 after an appeal to Harry and Hermione to help him work the remote. The screen was currently showing the 24 hour news that had been running non-stop the last three days, a weary looking newsreader reading out the latest figures on damages done by rioting and looting. Then, the picture changed, and it showed a city in flames, with foreign looking policemen containing an angry mob and a stream of ambulances racing towards flaming buildings. It was the scene of the Muggle massacre, and Harry felt sick to his stomach as the images flashed before him. A new resolve settled within him. He had to stop this happening, he had to help end this before things got even worse.

His heart thudded erratically as he and the others left the building and slid into two waiting Ministry cars, driven by Aurors rather than normal drivers, their wands lying ready on their laps. Harry settled himself between the window and Merlin, and watched as London raced past. At first, there was no visible difference in the sights that met his eye, the same old grubby streets and overflowing rubbish bins. There was no one on the streets. No cars, no buses. Not even a dog. The curtains in every house were drawn.

As they began to move into more heavily built up areas, they began to notice signs of life. Slogans written with paint on bed sheets were flying from bedroom and office windows. Some were too badly smeared by the rain, others were more legible. "No toleration for witchcraft" read one, "Peace for all", read another. Heading into central London people began appearing on street corners, carrying banners and placards, yelling and shouting, gathering around portable radios. They passed several burned out cars, smashed windows, slogans spray-painted onto walls, some very graphic in their condemnation for magic.

They passed more protesters, who yelled and made rude gestures to the cars, though Harry knew if they had known who was inside they would not have let them go so lightly. More banners flew above their heads: "No to magic!", "No mercy", "Rid evil from Britain!". Smaller groups of people were also gathered in public areas carrying banners that called for peace talks, but they were harangued by the others, and Harry witnessed several bloody looking fights breaking out.

The cars slid past Trafalgar Square, which was cordoned off for pedestrians, Nelson's Column blackened by fire, the great lions lying on their sides several feet away from their plinths, shattered fountains and the wreckage of cars strewn everywhere. Harry had never seen the place so deserted. It was like a war zone. He glanced at Merlin here, but Merlin was looking straight ahead. He was breathing deeply and slowly, his face expressionless.

Eventually, just when Harry was beginning to feel his new found determination waver, Big Ben became visible over the top of the various buildings. The driver of the car turned his head to Kingsley, who was sitting on Merlin's other side.

"Prepare yourself, Minister," he said, a grim note to his voice. "We're coming up to it now. The place will be mobbed."

"Understood," said Kingsley, and placed his hand upon his wand in his pocket. His entire body was ready and alert.

Harry's nerves immediately returned as the Houses of Parliament came into full view, an imposing structure that loomed over him and seemed to quell the optimism he had tried to keep burning. The sight of a huge wall of reporters, television cameras and protesters only made him feel worse.

The car slowed down as it tried to make its way through the crowd. Protesters jeered and threw things at the car while cameras flashed into the windows. Groups of hippy-like people tried to push to the front.

"Teach me magic!" one cried. "Teach us!"

"Witchcraft is a sin!" one old man cried.

"Leave us alone, _witches!_"

"Get out of our country!"

"Stop hurting our citizens!"

"Stop your unnaturalness!"

"Careful, Evans," said Kingsley calmly to the driver, not heeding the commotion outside. "Don't make your protection spells so obvious. Just enough to stop them damaging the car but not enough to frighten them."

"They're frightened enough as it is, Minister," said the driver. "There'll be no reasoning with them."

"It is not them we have to deal with," said Kingsley, his eyes fixed on the gates into parliament which were now directly ahead.

"And you think politicians are going to behave any better than this lot?" scoffed Evans. "No offence, Minister," he added hastily.

"He's right," said Merlin quietly. "Politicians are often the worst people for trying to negotiate with. They have their own agendas, their own motivations. I doubt much will come of today."

"I thought you were the one who thought negotiation was possible?" said Kingsley. "What has prompted such a change?"

Merlin turned his head to look at the protesting crowd outside. "A lot of bad memories resurfacing," he said. "Mob hysteria is the worst poison for peace talks."

None of them said another word until they had passed within the confines of the House of Commons and met up with the occupants of the other car, including two people Harry had never met before but assumed must be the Heads of the Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Law Enforcement. The passed into the building's main foyer and Harry suddenly felt very small in such austere and grand settings. Muggles were approaching them, all of them looking terrified.

"I-I-I" stammered one of them. "I'm supposed to- supposed to … search … um …"

"We are carrying no weapons other than our wands," said Kingsley, making the man flinch. "And these we surrender willingly, provided you shall keep them safe."

The man paled and nodded meekly. He held out a small tray and Kingsley placed his wand in the tray, as did everybody else, though reluctantly. Merlin and Harry placed their wands in last, though this was really only a symbolic gesture as both were perfectly capable of using magic without one. The man hurried away muttering something about lunatics and madness, leaving the eight of them standing in the main hall with several Muggles on either side too afraid to approach them.

"Look at the fear in their eyes," said McGonagall. "This isn't right."

"No, it isn't," said the wizard Harry did not know. "Here we are wandless and surrounded by Muggles. This type of situation has always ended badly in the past."

"Harry and I aren't defenceless," said Merlin, frowning at the man. "But why should that even matter? Are you planning on attacking them?"

"No, but I can't count on them not to," said the wizard nodding at the Muggles.

Merlin's frown deepened. "There is no 'us' and 'them'," he said. "Stop thinking that way or we'll never get anywhere."

"Kind of hard not to when they're treating us like criminals," said the wizard, pointing to armed policemen that were lurking in the shadows, eyes trained on the wizards. "They're making me feel like _we're _the bad guys!"

"In their eyes we are," said Merlin. "We've lied to them for three hundred years and endangered them unknowingly through our own wars and conflicts. They have every right to distrust us."

A couple more moments passed as Harry's stomach churned. It felt almost like the day of his hearing at the Ministry of Magic, when he'd thought he was going to be expelled. Only this time the outcome would mean the fate of an entire world.

Two jumpy looking officials approached them warily. "You can go through now," said one of them. "Parliament is waiting for you."

_Here goes_, thought Harry, and braced himself for whatever trials he was about to endure.

* * *

Merlin managed to stay remarkably calm as he walked with Kingsley and the others into the main chamber of the House of Commons. He had to stay calm, he had to focus. This was the moment he'd been waiting for since Camelot had fallen into ruin.

The room was mobbed, far busier than Merlin had ever seen it on the few Muggle political broadcasts he'd watched. What looked like every MP in the country was in the room, and with not enough seats to accommodate them all, many were lurking at the back or in the public gallery. There was an immediate uproar as the eight wizards entered the room, with angry cries and condemnations shouted from every corner.

Every green seat in the room was occupied in the two halves that faced each other divided by a centre aisle, and everyone was crammed in as much as possible. Rogers and his most senior ministers were seated in the usual spot at the front, with the front bench opposite him the only seats empty. This was where the Leaders of the Opposition usually sat, but appeared to now be reserved for Kingsley and the others. The actual leaders of the Opposition were shoved unceremoniously into another corner, and looking very displeased about it.

The side where Kingsley and the others took their seats amidst general uproar was supposed to be for Opposition MPs, but considering Rogers' party had won almost every seat, there wasn't much of an Opposition, meaning most of the people on this side must be Rogers' MPs as well, just willing to sit anywhere. It was like being surrounded by enemies.

Merlin was acutely aware of the television cameras that were pointed at them, and the way MPs would shrink away as they passed, but was determined to ignore it. He had his eyes focused on Rogers. He seemed far more confident than the last time they had met, seemingly over the shock. He glared unrestrainedly back at them, and seemed to be reveling in the noise his MPs were making.

Kingsley sat directly opposite Rogers, and Merlin sat on his right, with Harry next to him. Harry kept glancing nervously up to the cameras, as well as looking around the room in dismay at the hundreds of people looking down on them.

The Speaker was in his chair to the right of Merlin, sitting before the aisle dividing the two parts of the House, wearing the usual robes and wig, trying to appear as regal as possible. His eyes were sharp and suspicious. The ceremonial mace that represented the monarchy sat before him, and Merlin wondered wildly what the Queen thought of all this, before the Speaker stood, and everyone in the room fell silent.

"Today, we find ourselves in the most unique of positions," his voice booming across the silent chamber. "There is no precedent for this, no way to know how to proceed. It was questioned whether or not a formal debate was in order, or whether the government should conduct peace talks with the members of the … ahem, _wizarding_ government. I have called this session as the country finds itself in a state of emergency, and all of our protocols seem to have vanished. Therefore I invite the leader of, well, I suppose you could call him the Leader of the Opposition now, and he shall be referred to as such for the duration of this session-" the real Leader of the Opposition huffed in a corner-" to provide Parliament and the people of the British nation and the world at large an explanation for his and his society's hidden existence within our own, and to propose how our two societies should proceed. As I said, there is no precedent for dealing with the revelation of an entire secret population existing alongside us, and none of us are abiding by the rules-" here he cast a glance at the MPs sitting on the wrong side of the chamber and also several MPs of the last government who had somehow managed to wrangle their way in as well-" but we must do the best we can. I now call the Prime Minister."

The Prime Minister stood at the bidding of the Speaker. He looked for a moment at Kingsley before turning slightly.

"Thank you, Mr Speaker," he said, to an audience that was deathly quiet. "I would like to thank you for your words to us. I would now like to open this session of Parliament with an appeal to the 'Leader of the Opposition' to introduce himself and his companions to the people watching at home from whom he has so disgracefully hidden from in a manner that can only be described as cowardly."

Merlin blinked. That wasn't a good start to proceedings. Rogers' words were met with a great deal of loud assent from the benches as his own party voiced their support, as well as a smaller noise of others calling for Kingsley to be heard. Merlin tried not to sigh. Squabbling and insults seemed to be pat and parcel of British democracy.

The Speaker nodded to Kingsley who then stood to combined cheers and jeers. The Speaker called for order and reluctantly, the shouts died down. Kingsley fixed them all with his best stare.

"I am disappointed indeed, Mr Speaker that the Prime Minister has such condemning comments to make at the beginning of the peace process, I can only hope he has the restraint to listen to myself and my companions before passing any further judgment. An inability to do so would demonstrate a severe lack of understanding or foresight. I hope he can keep his condemnation under control until the issue has been further explored."

There were many more mixed responses from the benches, and the Prime Minister's glare deepened. Kingsley must have done his homework, thought Merlin, adhering to the customs and procedures of parliament so well, like the practice of only addressing the Speaker and speaking about other members in the third person. Rogers' did not look happy that Kingsley was not ignorant of the custom.

"I am Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic of the United Kingdom," Kingsley said, prompting more shouts and calls for order from the Speaker. "To my left is my Senior Undersecretary, Malcolm Roberts, Daniel Watkins, Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement and Darius Andrews, Head of International Magic Cooperation. To my right, is Merlin Emrys-," they had decided not to conceal Merlin's identity any longer- "Harry Potter-," Harry went a little pink here- " and Remus Lupin, all notable leading figures in our recent war against oppression, and Professor Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the school where the children of magical and non-magical families go to learn magic. All seven are trusted personal advisors and friends, and there are none better that I trust to help resolve this issue."

More shouts of outrage, especially at the mention of a school which seemed to frighten people. Some people were looking at Merlin curiously, confused by his name, and at Harry, probably because of his age. Merlin doubted anyone as young as Harry had ever been permitted to sit in Parliament.

Kingsley was not finished, and spoke over the shouting. "Firstly, Mr Speaker, before I am bombarded with questions, I see the need to explain a little of wizarding history, and how it relates to the history of Muggles, that is to say, non-magical people."

Everyone had gone quiet now.

"Wizards and Muggles have lived side by side for millennia," said Kingsley, to a silent chamber. "You have only to look inside your own history books to determine that. Your legends and histories are filled with mentions of sorcery. You now believe those histories to be nothing more than exaggerated fiction with no basis in fact, that your ancestors were merely ignorant. But that is not the case. Many things you believe to be myth and legend were true. Muggles and wizards have lived both in peace, and in conflict at various points in history. This conflict began to get out of hand in the late seventeenth century, when both wizards and innocent Muggles were being prosecuted for witchcraft. With the advice of the International Confederation of Wizards, this government and several others in Europe voluntarily chose to go into hiding. In the year 1689 the International Statute of Secrecy was signed, and all member countries, the number of which has grown over the centuries, chose to entirely hide our existence from the non-magical peoples of our countries, to protect both ourselves and innocent Muggles. Since then, we have conducted all of our business entirely separately from yours, with one exception. The Muggle Prime Minister, upon his or her election, is visited that same night by the incumbent Minister for Magic to reveal the existence of the magical world, to ensure cooperation in all issues that would affect the populations of both societies."

Chaos erupted once more as everyone looked outraged. Even the impartial Speaker looked angry. Kingsley just raised his voice and continued.

"Such an alliance is necessary to ensure the safety of both societies," he said. "It has proven invaluable during our recent war against extremists within our population, when Muggles and wizards alike were in danger. The actions of your last Prime Minister helped ensure the lessened impact on Muggle Britain. I note, he was unhappy with the deception, but with all due respect for the Members of the House, who would have believed him? Or any other former Prime Minister for that matter? They all knew, and they all kept our secret because they recognised the wisdom of it, as I hope you all do in due course."

"Our societies have been separate for three hundred years, though not by choice. We have become estranged, and I regret that ignorance has arisen amongst my own people. The people who conducted these recent attacks were unhappy with the Statute and wished to end it, though if up to me, I would never have done it in such a mode. They are a terrorist organisation and are being dealt with. The situation is not ideal, but our peoples have worked together in the past and have demonstrated a capacity for peace and understanding. I hope that spirit has not died and everything can be resolved peacefully. I regret the centuries of separation that were deemed necessary by my predecessors, and I hope that now magic and Muggles can unite to make up for past transgressions by both peoples through the centuries. I and my companions now welcome any questions from the Honourable Members about our society and desires. We have no longer anything to hide and desire peace above all else."

As Kingsley sat, almost every other person in the room leapt to their feet to ask a question, to be recognised by the Speaker. The Speaker called on an MP.

"The Leader of the Opposition refers to a recent war amongst his own society," said the MP, looking visibly angry. "Although he says he informed the Prime Minister, does that justify such a war? Normal British citizens were placed in danger by this reckless war and were completely unaware of it. Does he have any regret for such an abominable concealment? Are all the strange events of the last few years due to this mysterious war to which he refers? The collapsed bridge? The tornado in the West Country? The unexplained murders? The museum massacres? The mysterious explosions at Grimmauld Place in London last year? How far can we trust a man who lies to an entire population about their safety?"

The MPs chorused their agreement.

At a nod from the Speaker, Kingsley stood once more.

"This war, Mr Speaker, was one of the greatest to affect our people in a long time," he said. "It was fought against an evil sorcerer named Tom Riddle and his supporters who sought to overthrow our government and gain dominion over the entire country, wizard and Muggle. They were as much a danger to Muggles as they were to us, and we fought and died to protect our Muggle neighbours. Grimmauld Place was the headquarters of the main resistance group against Riddle's dominion, and the fires that night were the result of the battle we undertook to overthrow Riddle and his followers, in which we eventually were successful. Riddle and his ally, Morgana, were responsible for the mass killings at museums and for the magical creature that was unleashed in central London last year. I can safely say they have been defeated."

"And how do we know that?"

"Shame!"

"Lies!"

The Speaker called on another MP.

"I wonder, Mr Speaker," she began, "how long it will be until another 'evil sorcerer' rises to destroy people? Would this Ministry of Magic have told us then? Their society is evidently volatile and dangerous for ordinary people. They fought a secret war amongst us. That is unforgiveable. How can we trust these people?"

The Speaker called another MP who was practically leaping up in down in order to be recognised.

"And what is this 'magic'?" the man asked. "How does it work? Just what are these people capable of? How much of a threat do they pose to us? I'd like to ask this so-called 'Head of Magical Law Enforcement' just how they regulate their people. How many attacks are there on ordinary citizens as a result of the arrogance of these wizards in hiding their danger from us?"

At a nod from the Speaker, and one also from Kingsley, the wizard rose to his feet. "Magic is …" he began, trying to find the words. "It's an inherent ability, capable of arising within Muggles as well. With the use of a wand, we can do spells, make potions etc., for many purposes, most of which are harmless. We have defensive and offensive magic of course, our wands can be used for killing as well as healing, but we have strict moral codes, much like your own society. We believe in peace, in respecting each other, and would never take the life of a Muggle. Magical misdeameaours are treated severely, and crimes against Muggles are dealt with particularly harshly. True, there are those among us who use magic for ill, but can you honestly say there are none amongst you who abuse their power? We are not so different in our beliefs of right and wrong. We condemn murder, theft, rape, corruption and abuse as you do. We are not the barbaric Devil-worshippers your stories present us as; we are a rational civilised people."

"And how do we know that?" another MP cried, forgetting all formalities as the rest of his comrades yelled in agreement.

"Because we're telling you now," said Kingsley. "You must trust our word-"

"And how can we trust your word when you've lied to us for so long?"

"You're our enemies!"

"We cannot trust them!"

"Throw them out!"

Once more, everything descended into chaos as MPs leapt to their feet to yell and shake their fists at Kingsley, completely abandoning all sense of protocol, crossing the red lines before their benches that was supposed to be forbidden during debates. Even the supposedly impartial Speaker was looking concerned and shouting questions of his own. Roberts, Watkins, Andrews and Remus had jumped to their feet and were trying to quell the near riotous MPs, shouting back at them, and even McGonagall had stood and was now engaged in a heated discussion with a woman in the row behind her, dodging the blows of her handbag. Only Merlin and Harry remained seated.

Harry bit his lip and glanced at Merlin. "This is chaos," he murmured.

"This is British politics," said Merlin grimly.

The shouting went on a bit longer, before the Speaker began to regain some control after ejecting some MPs (most unwillingly) from the chamber.

"I call upon the Honourable Member for Harrow," he cried. "I call upon the Honourable Member for Harrow."

Most of the MPs regained their seats, while another, on Kingsley's side of the room stood.

"Thank you Mr Speaker for putting an end to what is a shameful display," he said, glaring at the other side of the room. "The Prime Minister's party seems to be an unruly mob not fit to govern a tea party, let alone a country. Instead of attacking the representatives of the wizarding government and accusing them with such atrocities, can we not now agree on a way forward? I call upon the Prime Minister to lay aside these petty squabbles and decide on the best way forward. These deceptions are grave indeed, but infighting can get us nowhere. We have seen on the Continent only this morning the bloodshed that has resulted from this mass exposure. We can see from that why wizards have chosen to hide; there are still ignorant bigots amongst us, as the People's Party has shown today. Let us not follow that country's example. I call upon this government to take action to prevent such violence occurring in this country as well and to make a lasting peace with the Minister for Magic."

There were a few cheers at this from Opposition MPs, but the vast majority of the room booed their displeasure. Kingsley looked grave and Merlin knew what he was thinking; with almost all the government being members of the People's Party what hope was there for reasonable discussion? Rogers had them all under his thumb.

Rogers stood, and all but glared at the MP who had spoken.

"The Honourable Member seems not to understand the seriousness of the situation," he said. "These people have _magic,_ perverted unnaturalness that they could use against us at any moment. How can we make peace with a people that are so unfairly advantaged? If they were to rise up against us, what could we do? It seems to me, Mr Speaker, that only the cessation of all magical activities of this Other Population is the only solution, and surrendering to our authority until we can ascertain their worth."

Remus stood up now, eye-to-eye with Rogers.

"We will not give up our magic," he said, amid shouts of protest. "It is who we are, and we cannot ask our people to once again live lies, live in fear and persecution. We will not be made to feel inferior, for any reason. That would only strengthen the divide between our two peoples. We must work together, and acknowledge each other's strengths and weaknesses. Magic against Muggles is illegal, and we will continue to uphold that law. Nothing has changed in that respect. We will not give up a part of who we are. We need to be recognised as equals in your society, and you need to be recognised as equals in ours. That is a failing we both share; ignorance and fear. We need to change that."

"And how, Mr Speaker," said Rogers, "can we change our society when we are still continually threatened by theirs? Why should we change to accommodate terrorists and _witches_? They admit to corrupting our society by influencing our Prime Ministers, they secretly take our _children_ to be educated in wicked arts! How can we condone this?"

"Don't you dare call my school wicked," McGonagall said, finally rising to her feet, a cold glare in her eyes. "That school helps children of all backgrounds and has done ever since its foundation one thousand years ago, Muggle and magical alike. And stop waving at me, you silly little man," she said, glaring at the Speaker who was trying to regain order. "I don't give a damn about your ridiculous protocols. You, Prime Minister, are displaying a wilful ignorance and prejudice I would equate with a man from the Dark Ages. Hogwarts is a school where we teach children of Muggle parents who possess the ability to use magic. We do not _corrupt_ anybody. The only corruption I see here is coming from your lips."

Merlin felt a surge of pleasure at her words, though most of the room did not agree. McGonagall sat down again, fixing her coldest stare on Rogers.

"You know," said Merlin to her, trying to lighten the mood in the riotous room. "_I'm _a man from the Dark Ages."

McGonagall just turned that icy glare on him instead. He smiled and looked away, though inside, he was feeling the dread begin to weigh him down once more. These talks were going nowhere. He knew he had to do something, say something, but he didn't know what. Telling everyone here he was _the_ Merlin in the state they were in probably wasn't a good idea, but staying silent on the matter was not particularly appealing either. He knew he had to act. He'd been waiting for this opportunity for too long to waste it now.

His entire life had been building up to this, but now, oddly, he didn't know what to say or do. He felt as lost as he had done in those first few years in Camelot, fresh out of the countryside and completely unfamiliar with politics and everything it entailed. He felt young again, and not in a good way. Why was he feeling like this? The entirety of the Wizarding World, and the Muggle one were depending on him; why was he so useless?

He searched for the Old Religion to guide him, but again, met with only silence. He longed for it to speak to him as it once had, to influence him, tell him what to do. For years it had instructed him, now it had abandoned him. Why? It was more important now than ever.

Other MPs were speaking as he was lost in his own mind. They were questioning Andrews and Watkins about laws, Wizarding society and other things, all of their questions hopelessly biased, everything that they said criticised and denounced as unnatural or dodgy. Nothing they said could convince the MPs of anything.

"If you can only be reasonable, we can find a multitude of commonalities," said Andrews. "My own parents are Muggles, I know your society is a good one. Let us at least discuss-"

"Discuss with witches? With terrorists?"

"Don't trust them!"

"Do you want violence like on the Continent?" said Remus. "Because that's the way you're heading-"

"Is that a threat?"

"No!" said Harry, who had finally swallowed his nerves and leapt to his feet, looking angry. "It's a warning. If you keep acting as blind and stupid as you are at the moment things are going to get worse!"

"And what qualifies you to say that?" asked another MP. "You're a teenage boy!"

"A teenage boy who has risked his life time and time again for the sake of wizards and Muggles alike," said Merlin, who spoke without thinking, not willing to let Harry face censure. "You have no idea what he has done in the fight against evil in our own society, and what he is trying to do now. We've spent the last few years fighting bigotry and inequality, protecting the rights of everybody, regardless of background. You'd do well to listen to him."

"And who exactly are you, or this boy, to tell us anything?" the MP shot back. "What qualifies you? Are either of you members of government?"

"Mr Potter, is a student of mine-"

"The Ministry of Magic sends _schoolchildren_ to fight in wars and take part in governmental debates? That says it all."

"Listen to me," said Merlin, facing the wall of angry MPs. "you cannot understand how important it is to create a peace now before things get out of hand. I've seen how bad things can get, and believe me, a return to those days is tantamount to anarchy and death."

"You've seen this?" said Rogers. "How can you, if the Statute has been in effect for three hundred years?"

At this, Merlin faltered slightly, and glanced to Kingsley, who himself looked strangely doubtful. Harry however, was not silent.

"He's seen it all," said Harry. "He's older than half the people in this room put together. He's _the_ Merlin."

This statement was met with mixed ridicule and outrage. Half the MPs laughed and derided him, others looked scornful, afraid, disapproving. Only Rogers looked as though the fully believed it. His eyes darkened.

"Lies!"

"Ridiculous!"

"Throw him out!"

"You _must_ listen," said Merlin urgently, seeing all his hopes begin to fade away in the face of such opposition. "We tried, in 1689 to talk to Muggle government. We tried to talk to King William and Queen Mary, they did not listen. They encouraged the continuation of violence. Don't make the same mistake they did. Move beyond your past, and we will do the same. I've seen the damage an ignorant and prejudiced government can do; do not fall back on old ways. For everybody's sake."

"Riddle's men tried to kill hundreds of Muggles just because he thought they were scum," said Harry. "We fought and died to stop that from happening. We're on your side. Don't be as ignorant as those men. Prove that we're all in this together."

Any rational man would have heard these words and listened, but Merlin despaired to see that the MPs simply continued to shout angrily at Kingsley. Merlin felt a touch of desperation and panic seep in unwillingly as he observed nothing but angry faces before him. There could be no reasoning with these people.

Kingsley stood, facing the angry politicians with a stoic and determined expression, not flinching at the insults being thrown at him.

"We cannot continue like this, lest violence spread beyond our control," he said, addressing the Prime Minister evenly. "Please, see sense. Let us leave here with at least an arrangement of peace between our two peoples, if not one of full integration. A chance for us to better understand each other and strive for a greater peace. Our differences shall take a great deal of time to resolve, but may I at least have the consent of this Parliament to agree to a Peace Accord in the meantime?"

Rogers slowly rose to his feet, amid the shouts of his party members and looked calmly at Kingsley, his eyes sparling.

"Such a step," he said, to a now eerily quiet chamber, "would be appropriate in circumstances of two governments trying to create peace and end war and unrest. However," he looked around the room, his thick eyebrows drawn tightly together, "to do so would require _two _governments."

He fixed Kingsley with his coldest glare yet.

"I do not recognise this man or his government," said Rogers. "I do not recognise the Ministry of Magic as a legitimate government, but as a secret organisation that has undermined this parliament and conducted seriously questionable actions against the British people. I cannot agree to peace with a government that does not legally exist. Is there any here who would question that?

"I now call a vote," said the Speaker, shouting over the tumult, and installing even more dread in Merlin's heart. "All in favour of recognising the Ministry of Magic as a legitimate government?"

"Aye!" shouted what sounded like less than twenty MPs, and Merlin's heart sank.

"All those against?"

"Aye!" cried the rest of the room in one cry.

"Clear majority, motion passed," said the Speaker. "Ministry of Magic is not recognised by this parliament."

"How can you do this?" cried Watkins. "We have every right to be recognised! Our system of government is older than yours; you should be asking_ us _for legitimacy. You're making a big mistake."

"The only mistake was not recognising you for what you are long ago!" said Rogers. "Perverse evil-doers that are damaging British society by your very existence!"

"You cannot do this!" said Merlin, his heart racing. "You _have _to see that they only way to move forward is to talk."

"This government has no interest in _talking_ to such a questionable organisation," said Rogers. "I say that you are enemies of state, and should be dealt with as such. Leave this House, leave this country with your people and do not return to threaten us ever again!"

As Rogers spoke, the noise of the crowd got louder and louder until it was one solid roar. Scuffles broke out between People's Party MPs and Opposition MPs, the Speaker was calling for order, MPs stamped their feet in a great thunder, Andrews was arguing emphatically with an MP, and through it all, Rogers sat in his seat, smiling, eyes glinting.

Kingsley turned to Merlin. The look on his face said it all.

Far different from Merlin's hopes a few weeks ago, peace now looked further away than ever before.

* * *

Harry felt a twisting uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as they made their way back to Grimmauld Place. No one was saying anything, even after the car had forced its way through the crowd of protesters, some of whom had thrown flaming objects at the car. These projectiles had been repelled by the magical shield, and this had only riled the crowd up further. Eventually the Auror driver had cast a Disillusionment Charm over the entire car and raced away before they could be followed by anybody.

The streets looked even worse than before, with shop windows smashed open and people running from them carrying televisions and microwaves, as well as the crowds of angry mobs, carrying such 'weapons' as garden tools. It looked like they were just inches away from arming themselves with flaming torches and pitchforks.

The driver twiddled the dials on the dashboard until the Muggle radio came on.

"-well, you heard it for yourselves, folks. The Prime Minister has refused to negotiate with the Wizarding government, and the wizards themselves seem to be very unapologetic for hiding their society from us for so long. They freely admit to placing us all in danger every time they have an internal disagreement."

"Exactly my point, David," said another commentator. "They have no regard for our society, our laws or customs. They're arrogant and self-righteous, and were lying through their teeth when they claimed they were our allies. How can they be when they care so little for us? They've lurked beneath our society for too long, who knows what they've done to us in secret over the years? They've taken shameful advantage of our ignorance. They should be driven out. We can tolerate their presence no longer."

"But surely such action is unnecessary?" said the first commentator. "Shouldn't the peace process continue until arrangements can be made?"

"What arrangements? These people have magic! They could kill us all with a flick of a wand and a few silly words. They are a threat, an enemy, and must be dealt with as such. We don't like it when other countries have nuclear weapons, so why should be like it when the Other Population has magic? There can be no negotiating with terrorists and madmen like these."

"But are they mad? Shacklebolt seemed willing to talk peacefully. He didn't strike me as unreasonable."

"Of course they're mad! I mean, that man actually claimed to be _Merlin!_ Witchcraft has been denounced as evil for centuries. This is no fairytale. Our ancestors burnt them at the stake for a reason. They feared magic, and they were probably right to. They are dangerous, and they cannot be trusted. Why else do we associate magic with evil if they are not? These people can never be productive, valuable members of our society."

"But surely integration-"

"How can we integrate with people who have declared war on us? They have shown their contempt for our way of life. They have shown their true colours. They must be driven out!"

"Are you seriously condoning violent actions like those on the Continent?"

"If necessary, yes."

"Turn it off," said Kingsley, and the driver immediately obliged, his own face looking strained.

"Rogers never intended to negotiate with us," said Merlin from beside Harry. He was staring straight ahead, his face blank. "He was always going to declare war on us. He just wanted us to be exposed to the entire British public so he could justify himself by denouncing us as evil. We were never going to get a fair trial."

Kingsley nodded. "So it would seem," he said, and sighed, turning his face away from the destruction outside of the window. "It appears you overestimated Muggles, Merlin."

Merlin was silent for a moment, and then looked towards a burnt out car by the side of the road.

"Maybe I did," he said quietly, his eyes flashing with pain. "Maybe I did."

* * *

**A/N: Will update soon! :)**


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